Strangest  of  True  Stories 
from  tke  Worth  Woods 


WILLIAM -1YMAN 
UNDERWOOD 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


WILD   BROTHER 


31 


QOQO 


Bruno  invites  you  to  hear  the  story  of  his  strange  life 


WILD  BROTHER 

STRANGEST  OF  TRUE  STORIES 
FROM  THE  NORTH   WOODS 


By 

WILLIAM  LYMAN  UNDERWOOD 


Illustrated  from  Photographs  by  the  Luther 


THE  ATLANTIC  MONTHLY  PRESS 
BOSTON 


COPYRIGHT,  1921 
}y  WILLIAM  LYMAN  UNDERWOOD 

ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED 

First  Impression,  Nov.,  1921 
Second  Impression,  May,  1922 
Third  Impression,  Nov.,  1923 


PRINTED  IN  THE 
UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA 


To 

(Comrade 
ever  my  helpmate  and  companion 


CONTENTS 

THE  START  OF  THE  TRAIL i 

AT  GORDON 's  CAMP 17 

MAY-TIME  IN  THE  FOREST 41 

THE  BEAR  MAKES  A  JOURNEY        ....  53 

BRUNO  IN  BELMONT 80 

IN  TIMES  OF  TROUBLE 104 

BRUNO  MUST  DEPART 115 

THE  END  OF  THE  TRAIL 127 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

Bruno  invites  you  to  hear  the  story  of  his  strange 

life  Frontispiece 

The  one-way  road  to  Gordon's  Camp  ...  6 
Gordon's  Camp  was  buried  deep  in  snow.  .  .  12 
Mrs.  Weldon  and  the  children  with  some  of  the  crew. 

It  was  too  cold  for  the  baby        .        .        .        .       16 
Mr.    Underwood  took  this  picture  of  Ursula  and 
Bruno  and  me  with  my  consent  and  I  am  glad 
to  have  him  use  it  in  this  book   .        .        .        .       18 

The  den  where  the  bear  was  born  and  the  man  who 

found  him 22 

Life  in  the  deep  woods  agreed  with  Ursula  .  .  26 
Bruno  (weight  two  pounds)  takes  his  first  meal  of 

prepared  milk 32 

By  this  name  the  foster-sister  of  the  bear  was  chris- 
tened       jd 

Bruno  (weight  seven  pounds')  looking  for  sugar  .  44 
How  much  jam  could  he  eat  ?  They  never  had 

enough  to  find  out ! 48 

The  air  was  thick  with  the  smoke  of  forest  fires       .  54 

Bruno  and  his  oldest  sister -on  the  day  he  left  home  56 
The  cub  liked  to  crawl  inside  and  watch  the  children 

as  if  he  were  playing  hide  and  seek  56 


x  ILLUSTRATIONS 

Bruno  bids  good-bye  to  Ursula 58 

The  lake  country  of  the  St.  Croix  River  —  the  end  of 

Bruno's  first  journey 64 

Sometimes  he  could  not  wait  for  dinner  to  be  served  66 
The  cub  looks  out  on  the  wide,  wide  world  .  .  68 
If  we  left  the  door  unlatched,  Bruno  had  no  difficulty 

in  opening  it 70 

Caught  in  the  act  —  an  interrupted  climb  after  the 

enticing  bulb 72 

Watching  for  his  enemy,  the  dog  .  ...  76 
One  of  Bruno's  wild  relatives  broke  into  this  cask  and 

dipped  the  molasses  out  with  his  paw    .        .  76 

Each  day  we  dropped  downstream  to  wooded  lakes 

below 78 

The  author's  home  in  Belmont  —  the  " playground  " 

where  Bruno  grew  up 80 

He  still  insisted  on  feeding  from  the  wooden  trough  82 
Bruno  was  willing  to  have  his  picture  taken,  but  he 

wanted  to  examine  the  camera  first    .        .        .       82 
He  is  astonished  to  see  water  running  up  hill  .        .       84 
Who  wouldn't  like  this  on  a  hot  summer  day  ?        .       84 
Bruno  is  introduced  to  a  new  arrival  in  the  family. 
A  moment  after  the  picture  was  taken  he  kid- 
naped the  "baby"  and  ran  down  the  meadow      86 


ILLUSTRATIONS  xi 

Finally  to  escape  pursuit  he  dropped  his  booty  and 

climbed  a  ladder 86 

"  Come  on  if  you  dare, "  his  attitude  plainly  implied  go 
For  the  first  time  in  his  life  Bruno  encounters  a  toad 

and  —  (See  page  94) g2 

Bear/ike   he   investigates   by   gently    touching  the 

visitor  s  back ;  whereupon  —  (See  page  96)      .       94 
Much  to  the  astonishment  of  the  investigator  the 
toad  leaps  over  the  saucer.    An  instant  after 
this  picture  was  taken  the  bear  dashed  madly 
away  as  if  he  had  seen  an  apparition  from  the 

lower  regions 96 

Once  a  week  his  weight  was  recorded  .  .  .  100 
Football  was  a  favorite  sport  with  these  friends  .  100 
Bruno  falls  on  the  ball.  First  down,  ten  yards  to 

gain 104 

He  could  cling  to  a  tree  like  a  squirrel     .       .       .     104 
The  bear  always  treated  Foxy  with  the  greatest  gentle- 
ness, even  when  the  dog  bit  his  paws         .        .     106 

There  he  sat  in  the  warm  water  with  the  soft  clothes  of 

the  week's  wash  comfortably  settled  beneath  him  no 

A  hard  tomato  thrown  accurately  excited  Bruno's 
wrath  —  and  he  chased  his  assailant  down  into 
the  meadow 114 


xii  ILLUSTRATIONS 

A  sport  that  he  enjoyed  was  to  climb  out  on  the  small 

limbs 114 

He  threw  his  arms  round  my  waist  and  drew  me 
closely  to  him.  A  moment  after  this  picture 
was  taken  a  sudden  rage  seized  Bruno  and  he 
nearly  put  an  end  to  the  story  .  .  .  .  116 

He  had  evidently  come  for  an  afternoon  call  and  was 

now  waiting  for  tea  to  be  served .  .  .  .118 

Not  since  the  day  when  he  reveled  in  the  sugar 

barrel  had  he  sniffed  such  delicious  odors  .  .  120 

He  was  glad  to  see  me  and  touched  my  arm  in 

greeting 122 

When  full  grown,  Bruno  was  an  enormous  bear 

weighing  about  four  hundred  pounds  .  .  126 


WILD   BROTHER 


CHAPTER  I 
THE  START  OF  THE  TRAIL 

I  SHOULD  hesitate  to  tell  —  with  the  expectation 
that  it  would  be  accepted  as  the  truth  —  the  true 
story  that  I  am  now  to  relate,  were  it  not  possible 
for  me  to  illustrate  it  with  photographs  that  I  my- 
self have  taken. 

It  is  a  story  of  human  kindness  and  compassion 
that  has  seldom,  if  ever,  been  exceeded,  and  of  inci- 
dents, humorous,  pathetic,  and  surprising,  that  had 
their  beginning  in  a  log-cabin  far  back  in  the  for- 
est. Even  to-day,  many  years  after  the  first  event, 
this  train  of  strange  incidents  has  not  come  to  its 
end.  The  story  chronicles  the  life  of  a  black  bear's 
cub,  which,  having  lost  its  mother  when  only  a  few 
days  old,  was  saved  from  starvation  by  a  kind- 
hearted  woman,  who  adopted  it  into  her  family  and, 
when  its  life  was  all  but  gone,  nursed  it  and  cared 
for  it  with  her  own  baby. 

From  time  immemorial  we  have  had  handed 
down  to  us  myths,  legends,  and  stories  connecting 
the  lives  of  the  lower  animals  with  those  of  human 
beings.  Ancient  history  gives  us  the  story  of 
Romulus  and  Remus,  the  founders  of  Rome,  who, 
it  is  said,  as  infants,  were  left  in  the  desert  to 
starve,  and  were  saved  from  that  tragic  end  by  a 


2  WILD  BROTHER 

she-wolf,  which  nursed  them  to  vigorous  health 
with  her  own  young. 

Greek  mythology  gives  us  the  touching  story  of 
Atalanta,  daughter  of  lasius,  who  was  abandoned 
and  left  to  die  in  the  wilderness.  She,  too,  was 
saved  by  one  of  the  lower  animals,  for  a  bear 
nursed  her  and  brought  her  up  with  its  cubs. 

Kipling  in  his  "Jungle  Book"  has  immortalized 
Mowgli,  the  man's  cub,  who  fled  from  the  wrath  of 
Shere  Khan,  the  tiger,  and  took  shelter  in  the  den 
of  a  wolf,  and  was  brought  up  with  her  young. 

Many  such  stories  have  come  down  to  us  out  of 
the  past,  but  has  anyone  ever  heard  of  the  reverse 
of  these  stories  ?  Does  history  record  an  instance 
where  a  woman,  to  save  the  life  of  a  helpless  starv- 
ing animal,  has  taken  it  into  her  family  and  brought 
it  up  with  her  baby  ?  I  think  not. 

Such  a  story  was  told  to  me  one  evening  in  mid- 
winter, by  the  station  agent  in  a  little  village  in 
northern  Maine,  where,  with  Mrs.  Underwood,  my 
comrade  on  all  journeys  short  or  long,  I  was  wait- 
ing for  the  midnight  train  to  take  us  back  to 
Boston.  That  afternoon  we  had  driven  out  from 
my  camp  at  the  head  of  one  of  the  Schoodic  lakes, 
twenty-five  miles  away.  It  had  been  a  cold  hard 
pull,  over  heavy  unbroken  roads  deep  with  two 
feet  of  newly  fallen  snow.  In  the  comfortable  glow 
of  a  red-hot  stove  we  sat  in  a  circle,  the  railroad 


THE  START  OF  THE  TRAIL  3 

men,  some  villagers,  Comrade,  and  I,  enjoying  the 
warmth  of  the  room,  discussing  the  weather,  and 
telling  stories  of  the  woods  and  the  lumber-camps. 

"Say,  Bill,"  asked  the  agent,  "have  yer  heard 
about  the  doings  out  at  Gordon's  Camp  ?  No  ? 

"Wai,  yer  know  that  woman,  the  wife  of  the  cook 
that  Gordon  hired  last  fall.  Wai,  they  say  she's 
bringing  up  a  bear  with  her  baby ;  sleep  together, 
they  say,  in  the  same  cradle. 

"Yer  don't  believe  it  ?"  he  inquired  of  me,  as  he 
saw  the  incredulous  look  on  my  face.  "Wai,  you 
walk  up  the  road  to  the  store.  Gordon's  father,  he 
keeps  it.  You  ask  him.  Young  Gordon  was  out  day 
before  yesterday  and  told  the  old  man  about  it. 
He'll  tell  you  it's  the  truth." 

We  had  a  long  wait  before  train-time,  and  the 
incident  was  so  unusual  that  I  bundled  into  my  big 
overcoat  and  went  out  seeking  information.  The 
storekeeper  was  locking  up  for  the  night  when  I 
arrived;  but  as  soon  as  he  learned  my  errand,  he 
let  me  in  and  gladly  told  me  all  he  knew  about  the 
bear  that  was  being  brought  up  as  a  child. 

"Jim  was  in  a  hurry  when  he  come  out  the  other 
day,"  said  he.  "Took  No.  37  down  river  to  Bangor. 
He  didn't  have  time  to  say  more'n  that  they'd 
found  a  bear's  den  with  a  cub  in  it.  A  cute  little 
feller;  Jim  said  it  beat  all  how  small  he  was.  He 
cried  just  like  a  baby  when  they  hauled  him  out  on 


4  WILD  BROTHER 

the  snow.  Yes,  they  say  the  woman's  going  to 
fetch  him  up  with  her  baby.  Don't  know  what  the 
idea  is,  but  that's  what  she's  doing,  all  right.  I'll 
find  out  more  about  it  for  yer  when  Jim  gets  back." 

Here  was  an  astonishing  incident,  if  it  was  true. 
I  had,  however,  no  time  to  verify  it.  Gordon's 
lumber-camp  was  twenty-three  miles  back  from  the 
village,  with  only  a  rough  logging  road  leading  to 
it,  and  I  must  be  at  home  next  day. 

Before  I  left,  the  storekeeper  promised  to  get 
the  whole  story  for  me,  and  to  obtain  permission 
from  his  son  for  me  to  visit  the  camp  if  I  could 
manage  to  get  away  for  another  winter  trip  to  the 
woods. 

Not  long  after  my  return  to  the  city,  however,  a 
discouraging  letter  came  from  Maine.  The  bear  had 
been  sold,  the  storekeeper  said,  though  the  person 
who  had  bought  it  had  not  as  yet  come  to  take  it 
away.  If  there  was  time  in  the  interval  before  the 
cub  left  the  lumber-camp  for  me  to  come  down,  he 
would  write  again. 

I  had  given  up  all  hope  of  being  able  to  verify 
my  extraordinary  bear  story  when,  a  week  later, 
there  came  another  letter,  saying  that  the  adopted 
cub  was  to  stay  on  for  the  present  at  least,  and  that 
I  could  come  as  soon  as  I  wished. 

Immediately  I  wrote  the  proprietor  of  the  village 
hotel  that  I  should  arrive  on  the  morning  train  on 


THE  START  OF  THE  TRAIL  5 

February  twenty-first,  and  asked  him  to  have  a 
man  with  a  team  meet  me  at  the  station  and  be 
ready  to  start  at  once  for  the  woods,  so  that  I 
might  return  to  the  village  in  time  for  the  mid- 
night train  back  to  Boston.  Soon  after  I  had  sent 
this  letter,  however,  some  urgent  matters  of  busi- 
ness came  up,  obliging  me  to  take  the  trip  two  days 
earlier  than  I  had  originally  intended.  So  I  sent  a 
telegram  to  this  effect. 

The  morning  of  February  nineteenth,  1903, 
found  me  standing  in  the  snow  outside  a  lonely 
railroad  station.  It  was  long  before  sunrise.  The 
conductor  had  swung  his  lantern,  and  now  the 
twinkling  red  lights  on  the  rear  of  the  train  that 
had  brought  me  were  vanishing  in  the  distance.  I 
was  alone  beneath  the  stars.  Three  feet  and  more 
of  snow  lay  level  on  the  ground.  It  was  bitter  cold, 
with  the  mercury  far  below  the  zero  mark.  For  a 
while  I  stood  awaiting  the  expected  sled  from  the 
hotel ;  in  absolute  silence,  save  for  the  distant,  ever- 
fainter  rumbling  of  the  departing  train,  I  listened 
for  the  jingling  sound  of  sleigh-bells  which  should 
come  from  the  direction  of  the  village;  but  none 
came.  Evidently  my  plans  had  miscarried.  Events 
move  slowly  in  the  Maine  woods,  and  dates  and 
appointments  are  sometimes  forgotten  or  fulfilled 
at  leisure. 

When  my  feet  had  begun  to  grow  cold  and  my 


6  WILD  BROTHER 

ears  numb  with  the  biting  frost,  I  reluctantly 
picked  up  my  suit-case  and  camera  material,  and 
trudged  along  through  the  snow  to  the  village  inn. 
luckily  not  very  far  away.  The  door  was  locked, 
but  a  light  shining  through  a  side  window  showed 
that  someone  was  stirring  inside.  Through  the 
frost-coated  glass  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  freckle- 
faced,  tousle-headed  boy,  busily  engaged  in  sweep- 
ing the  office  floor.  A  knock  on  the  window-pane 
and  a  shout  soon  brought  him  to  the  door. 

"Why,  Mr.  Underwood  !"  he  exclaimed  in  aston- 
ishment, as  he  saw  me  kicking  my  frozen  toes  on  the 
door-sill.  "We  warn't  expectin'  you  this  mornin'. " 

"Didn't  you  get  my  telegram  saying  I  was  com- 
ing to-day  ?"  I  asked. 

"Yep,"  he  drawled,  "we  got  your  dispatch,  but 
yer  letter  come  the  day  after  and  yer  letter  said 
yer  wouldn't  be  here  till  the  day  after  to-morrow, 
and  yer  see  that  ain't  to-day.  But  come  on  in  and 
git  warm,"  he  added.  "  Breakfast '11  be  ready  by 
half-past  six." 

It  was  then  half-past  five.  The  big  balloon- 
shaped  corrugated  stove  shone  red  with  heat.  I  sat 
down  within  its  warm  glow  and,  leaning  back  in 
my  chair,  with  my  feet  on  the  encircling  iron 
fender,  I  was  soon  dull  with  drowsy  comfort,  pleas- 
antly dreaming  of  the  little  bear  in  the  warm 
lumber-camp. 


The  one-way  road  to  Gordon 's  Camp 


THE  START  OF  THE  TRAIL  7 

The  closing  of  a  door  woke  me  from  my  reverie, 
and  there  beside  me  stood  a  tall,  meek-looking  in- 
dividual, as  yet  but  partly  dressed.  He  was  clothed 
above  in  a  thick  red  flannel  shirt,  and  he  stood  in 
an  attitude  of  supplication,  with  his  long  arms 
outstretched  toward  the  genial  stove. 

"Jim,"  he  wailed,  "didn't  yer  get  my  writing 
telling  yer  to  have  hot  water  in  my  room  at  six 
o'clock?" 

"Yep,  I  got  yer  letter,"  the  boy  replied  indig- 
nantly, "but  yer  didn't  say  whether  yer  wanted 
it  at  six  o'clock  last  night,  this  mornin',  or  ter- 
night." 

"Wai,  can  I  have  it  now?  I  want  to  shave," 
said  the  countryman. 

"Yep,  yer  can  if  it  ain't  friz,"  said  Jim. 

At  breakfast-time,  day  was  just  coming,  but  as 
yet  no  steps  had  been  taken  to  outfit  me  for  my 
journey  into  the  woods.  Life  slows  down  in  back- 
woods New  England  towns  in  the  winter,  and  to 
get  along  with  comfort  one  must  accept  conditions 
as  one  finds  them.  Manners  and  customs  cannot 
be  changed  for  the  moment. 

When  I  returned  from  the  dining-room,  half  a 
dozen  villagers  were  gathered  round  the  hospitable 
office-stove,  discussing  the  stranger  within  their 
gates.  A  violent  argument  was  in  progress.  It 
seemed  that  there  were  three  lumber-camps  in 


8  WILD  BROTHER 

operation  back  in  the  forest,  and  whether  Gordon's 
was  the  first,  the  second,  or  the  third  on  our  road, 
was  the  cause  of  the  dispute. 

Another,  and  to  me  a  more  serious,  discussion 
now  arose.  There  were  two  different  roads  that  led 
into  this  lumbering  region.  The  teamster  who  was 
to  act  as  my  companion  and  guide  had  never  been 
over  either  of  these  trails.  In  the  argument  the 
natives  were  divided  into  two  hostile  groups.  One 
group  favored  the  lake  route ;  the  other  maintained 
that  this  trail  was  impossible,  inasmuch  as  no 
teams  had  crossed  the  ice  since  the  last  fall  of  snow. 
We  might  get  to  the  lake  all  right,  but  it  was  seven 
miles  across  it,  and  after  we  got  out  on  it,  we  could 
not  tell  where  to  get  off.  New  snow  had  hidden  the 
sled-tracks. 

The  opposition  very  loudly  favored  the  logging 
road.  That  was  more  direct  and  easy  to  follow  the 
whole  way.  The  lake  advocates  admitted  this. 
"But  what '11  he  do  when  he  meets  any  sleds?" 
demanded  one  big  chap.  "Yer  know  as  well  as  I 
do,  Dan,  there  ain't  a  single  turnout  fer  ten  miles 
on  that  loggin '  road.  It's  a  one-haul  road.  They'll 
all  be  comin'  out  this  mornin'  and  heavy  loaded, 
too.  There'll  be  some  cussin'  and  swearin'  if  he 
gits  in  their  way.  He  can't  git  by  in  that  narrow 
road  any  way  you  figure  it ;  if  he  tries  to  turn  out 
he'll  be  stuck  in  the  soft  snow." 


THE  START  OF  THE  TRAIL  9 

With  much  interest  and  considerable  appre- 
hension I  listened  to  the  controversy,  which  had 
grown  quite  violent  and  now  threatened  to  end  in 
a  fight.  Finally  I  stepped  into  the  midst  of  the 
wranglers  and  ended  the  disturbance  by  announc- 
ing that  the  lumber  road  was  my  choice.  At  least, 
it  started  in  the  village  and  ended  in  a  definite 
place ;  and  if  I  could  not  get  off  it,  for  the  same 
reason,  I  could  not  get  lost.  At  all  events,  I  was 
not  looking  for  trouble  until  it  came  to  me. 

An  hour  later  my  outfit,  a  fine  pair  of  heavy  bay 
horses  drawing  a  two-sledded  pung,  drew  up  in 
front  of  the  house ;  and  in  a  few  minutes  we  were 
off,  in  the  midst  of  a  chorus  of  shouted  warnings 
and  advice  from  the  villagers.  It  was  after  ten 
o'clock,  and  I  could  now  see  that  it  would  be  im- 
possible for  me  to  get  back  in  time  for  the  night 
train  home.  However,  I  had  come  a  long  way  for 
that  bear  story,  and  I  was  bound  to  get  it  if  I  had 
to  spend  a  week  in  the  woods. 

For  three  miles  our  road  led  through  the  sparsely 
settled  district,  and  we  sped  briskly  along  on  a  firm 
track.  The  white  blanket  of  snow  stretched  level 
and  smooth  over  the  tops  of  walls  and  fences.  The 
big  brass  bell  on  the  end  of  the  pole  throbbed  its 
ever-musical  beat  with  the  regular  stride  of  our 
steeds,  and  the  steel-shod  runners  creaked  loudly 
as  they  moved  on  the  up  grades  of  the  hard-packed 


10 


WILD  BROTHER 


snow.  Presently  we  came  to  the  logging  road,  and 
leaving  the  main  thoroughfare,  pulled  out  to  the 
left.  Following  the  road  across  an  open  field,  we 
were  soon  in  the  forest. 

The  lane  through  the  timber  was  so  narrow  that 
frequently  the  ends  of  the  whiffle-trees  hit  the  tree- 
trunks  as  we  passed  along.  The  inner  wood  on 
many  of  the  trees  showed  white  where  the  bark 
had  been  torn  away  by  frequent  scrapings.  What 
should  we  do  when  we  met  the  lumber-haulers 
bound  out  for  the  settlement  ? 

I  found  myself  listening  constantly  for  the  sound 
of  approaching  bells,  and  not  long  had  I  to  wait. 
As  we  swung  round  a  sharp  turn,  past  a  large 
boulder  that  lay  directly  in  our  path,  we  saw,  some 
distance  ahead,  gliding  smoothly  down  a  gentle 
incline,  six  heavily  laden  sleds.  All  came  to  a  stand- 
still on  the  level  ground  at  the  foot  of  the  slope. 
Little  puffs  of  white  mist  rose  intermittently  on 
the  cold  air,  from  the  nostrils  of  the  panting  horses. 
The  foremost  teamster  left  his  stand  on  the  "roll- 
ing bar"  in  front  of  the  logs  and,  whip  in  hand, 
came  running  toward  us.  Trouble  seemed  im- 
minent. 

"Hello,  Fred,"  he  shouted,  in  keen  astonish- 
ment. "Where  in  thunder  are  you  aimin'  for  on 
this  road  at  this  time  o'  day?  Didn't  yer  know 
this  is  a  one-haul  road  ?  What  are  you  goin '  to 


THE  START  OF  THE  TRAIL          11 

do  now  ?    The  snow  is  four  feet  deep  in  here." 

One  by  one  the  rest  of  the  crew  gathered  about 
us  —  rather  a  rough-looking  lot  at  first  glance, 
with  cloth  and  fur  caps  pulled  down  over  their  ears 
and  the  collars  of  their  coats  turned  up.  Icicles 
hung  from  the  heavy  moustaches  on  some  of  their 
faces,  while  swinging  jaws  and  numerous  and  in- 
creasing spots  on  the  snow  indicated  a  heavy  con- 
sumption of  tobacco. 

At  the  first  opportunity  Fred,  in  reply  to  their 
many  questions,  told  them  he  was  bound  for 
Gordon's  camp;  that  his  passenger  was  going  in 
to  see  the  bear-cub.  To  my  surprise  and  relief,  it 
seemed  to  be  a  magic  word,  the  open  sesame  to  our 
dilemma.  Hard  looks  at  once  changed  to  smiles. 

"Wai,"  the  spokesman  announced  between 
puffs  from  a  newly  lighted  black  clay  pipe,  "we'll 
see  what  we  can  do.  Yer  won't  have  much  more 
trouble  if  yer  can  get  by  us.  There's  only  four 
more  teams  comin*  out." 

Luckily  for  us,  we  had  stopped  at  a  point  where 
the  openings  between  the  timber  were  quite  wide. 
No  trees  would  have  to  be  cut  for  the  passing;  the 
depth  of  snow  was  the  only  difficulty.  It  took  us 
half  an  hour,  however,  to  overcome  this  obstacle. 
Briskly  the  men  set  to  work  tramping  back  and 
forth  by  the  roadside  just  ahead  of  us.  Though 
their  feet  were  not  on  the  ground,  the  snow  was 


12  WILD  BROTHER 

up  to  their  waists.  But  finally  they  trod  it  down 
with  their  heavy  stamping  shoes. 

Our  horses  strained  their  shoulders  into  their  col- 
lars, plunged  out  to  the  side  of  the  road,  and  stood 
belly-deep  while  one  by  one  our  new  friends 
crawled  by. 

Fortune  favored  us  that  day,  for  on  one  of 
the  sleds  as  a  passenger  was  a  young  man  who  had 
left  Gordon's  camp  early  that  morning.  For  two 
dollars  and  other  valuable  considerations  he  agreed 
to  show  us  the  way  in  to  the  bear,  one  of  the  other 
considerations  being  that  he  should  be  taken  back 
to  the  village  that  night.  The  boss  had  given  him 
a  few  days  off,  and  he  had  not  been  at  home  for  a 
month. 

Within  half  an  hour  we  met  the  other  teams. 
Again  mention  of  the  little  bear  helped  us.  When 
the  men  learned  of  my  errand,  they  willingly  set  to 
work,  though  we  were  not  so  fortunate  in  our 
meeting-place,  as  several  trees  had  to  be  cut  and 
hauled  out  of  the  way  before  the  snow  was  tramped 
down  and  we  could  pass. 

Without  our  pilot  we  should  have  had  hard  work 
in  finding  our  way  to  Gordon's  camp,  as  there 
were  many  roads  that  led  to  the  right  and  left  from 
the  main  line.  We  made  good  progress  now  over 
the  smooth,  beaten  track.  There  is  great  exhilara- 
tion in  a  sleigh-ride  over  a  lumber  road  in  mid- 


THE  START  OF  THE  TRAIL          13 

winter.  The  forest  trees  keep  off  the  chilling  winds, 
and  all  sounds  are  hushed  in  the  soft  mantle  of 
snow,  without  which  progress  would  be  impossible. 
In  summer  there  is  no  passing,  for  the  surface  of 
these  narrow  openings  between  the  trees  is  broken 
by  rocks,  holes,  and  stumps. 

At  noon  we  reached  the  first  camp,  and  received 
a  hearty  welcome  from  the  men  who  had  come  in 
for  lunch.  We  joined  them  at  the  long  white  board- 
table,  which  was  abundantly  supplied  with  well- 
cooked  simple  food.  Hot  tea  or  coffee  warmed  the 
inner  man.  Doughnuts  just  out  of  the  pot  of  boil- 
ing lard  on  the  stove,  with  gingerbread  and  apple- 
sauce, ended  the  feast. 

We  tarried  yet  a  while  in  the  gentle  warmth  of 
the  place.  Outside  the  men  were  grinding  their 
axes  in  preparation  for  the  afternoon's  work.  My 
driver  lent  a  hand  and  helped  the  cook  and  cookee 
wash  the  dishes,  while  he  gave  them  the  latest  news 
of  the  village.  The  cook  had  heard  about  the  bear 
at  Gordon's,  and  thought  the  woman  stood  a  fine 
chance  to  make  a  good  deal  of  money  when,  later, 
she  sold  it  to  some  circus  company.  "  But  I  '11  tell 
you  what,"  he  volunteered,  "I'd  never  let  my 
woman  do  a  thing  like  that.  She  wouldn't  want 
to,  anyhow.  Say,"  he  questioned,  "ain't  it  a  queer 
thing,  any  way  you  figure  it  ?" 

"I  don't  know  as  it  is,"  Fred  replied.  "She's  an 


I4  WILD  BROTHER 

awful  kind-hearted  woman.  She'd  look  after 
anybody  that  was  ailing.  You  know  two  of  them 
children  of  hers  is  adopted.  She  took  'em  because 
their  mother  died  and  their  father  couldn't  look 
after  'em." 

That  afternoon  we  had  no  further  trouble  about 
meeting  teams.  There  were  plenty  of  turnouts  all 
along  the  road.  From  this  district  the  logs  were 
being  hauled  down  to  the  frozen  surface  of  a  lake, 
and  the  sleds  were  going  and  coming  at  all  times  of 
the  day.  We  could  hear  the  clang  of  the  big  bells 
before  the  teams  came  in  sight,  and  always  had 
time  to  haul  into  a  turnout  so  that  they  could 
pass  us. 

For  a  mile  or  more  before  we  reached  the  lake, 
our  way  led  through  a  dense  cedar  swamp,  and 
here  in  the  thick  growth  deer,  yarding  for  the  win- 
ter, had  tramped  regular  paths  through  the  deep 
snow.  The  thicket  provided  them  with  shelter, 
while  moss  and  bark  and  tender  twigs  of  the  young 
growth  gave  them  food.  As  we  drove  along  we 
counted  five;  they  seemed  not  at  all  disturbed  at 
our  presence. 

A  little  farther  we  came  to  the  lake,  where  the 
teamsters  were  unloading  their  logs,  the  booming 
of  which  we  had  heard  long  before  we  reached  the 
shore.  Hauling  round  the  timber  as  it  lay  spread 
out  over  more  than  an  acre,  we  headed  for  the 


THE  START  OF  THE  TRAIL          15 

centre  of  the  lake,  and  were  gratified  to  discover 
that  out  from  the  edge  the  wind  had  swept  away 
the  snow,  giving  us  a  smooth  road  for  our  progress. 

In  the  distance,  on  the  farther  shore,  we  saw 
the  smoke  of  a  fire ;  and  as  we  reached  the  other 
side,  we  came  upon  a  man  who  was  fishing  through 
the  ice.  With  a  long  heavy  chisel,  he  had  cut  sev- 
eral holes  through  the  two  feet  of  frozen  surface. 
Leaning  over  each  opening  was  an  alder  branch, 
from  which  a  bit  of  fish-line  hung  down  into  the 
dark  cold  water.  On  an  old  pine-stump  close  beside 
his  brushwood  fire,  and  within  easy  sight  of  all  his 
lines,  sat  the  fisherman.  Any  movement  of  a  tell- 
tale alder  gave  immediate  notice  that  the  hungry 
fish  were  biting. 

The  staple  food  of  a  Maine  lumber-camp  is  baked 
beans  and  pork,  and  on  every  bill  of  fare,  if  they 
had  one,  this  article  would  appear  at  least  once  a 
day.  But  frequently  it  happens  that  some  deli- 
cacy of  the  locality  will  vary  the  monotony.  One 
of  the  lumber-camps  was  to  have  lake  trout  and 
landlocked  salmon  for  supper  that  night,  for  our 
fisherman  had  been  in  luck.  Several  good-sized 
fish  lay,  frozen  stiff,  on  the  ice. 

Not  only  fresh  fish,  but  often  good  tender  juicy 
steak,  is  put  upon  the  lumber-camp  table.  If  your 
lumberman  should  be  working  alone  in  the  forest, 
and  a  deer  should  charge  upon  him,  he  would 


1 6  WILD  BROTHER 

not  stand  still  and  allow  himself  to  be  bitten.  No, 
he  would  surely  defend  himself  like  a  man,  and 
with  his  axe  he  would  stand  the  animal  off,  and 
even  kill  it  if  necessary ;  and  on  the  menu,  if  they 
had  one,  "wild  lamb*'  would  be  featured.  If  you 
should  examine  the  dressed  carcass,  you  might 
find  a  mark  that  looked  suspiciously  like  a  bullet 
hole.  Of  course  deer  are  not  supposed  to  be  killed 
in  the  winter-time ;  but  a  hungry  man  must  pro- 
tect himself  from  harm,  and  in  those  days,  nearly 
twenty  years  ago,  deer  were  very  plenty  and  withal 
very  ugly,  so  't  was  said  —  by  the  man  who  was 
hungry  for  good  red  meat. 

Late  in  the  afternoon,  when  we  came  into  the 
clearing  of  Gordon's  camp,  the  place  at  first  seemed 
deserted;  not  a  soul  was  in  sight.  The  snow  was 
piled  high  up  to  the  eaves  of  the  log  cabins,  but  a 
thin  wisp  of  blue  smoke  curling  from  the  top  of  one 
of  the  stovepipe  chimneys  gave  evidence  that  some- 
one was  at  home ;  and  as  I  got  out  of  the  pung,  a 
pleasant  thrill  of  anticipation  came  over  me  at  the 
thought  that  I  had  reached  my  journey's  end,  and 
should  soon  discover  how  much  truth  there  was  in 
the  extraordinary  story  that  at  first  had  found  me 
incredulous. 


Mrs.  Weldon  and  the  children  with  some  of  the  crew. 
It  was  too  cold  for  the  baby 


CHAPTER  II 
AT  GORDON'S  CAMP 

WHILE  the  men  were  unhitching  our  horses,  I 
knocked  on  the  door  of  a  log-cabin  that  adjoined 
the  main  camp.  It  was  opened  by  a  kindly  faced 
woman  about  forty  years  of  age,  bearing  a  little 
child  in  her  arms.  She  smilingly  bade  me  enter, 
and  motioned  me  to  a  seat  on  a  bench  beside  the 
stove. 

Four  children,  two  boys  and  two  girls,  all  seem- 
ingly about  the  same  age,  stood  silently  by  while 
we  talked.  My  first  inquiry,  after  I  had  told  who 
I  was  and  explained  why  I  had  come,  was  to  ask 
how  the  little  bear  was  getting  on.  At  my  question 
one  of  the  boys  reached  behind  the  stove  and  drew 
out  a  small  shallow  box,  lined  with  deerskin.  I 
now  saw,  curled  up  in  its  centre,  almost  hidden 
from  sight  in  a  nest  of  clean  rags  and  bits  of  cloth, 
a  tiny  black  animal.  It  could  not  be  a  bear !  I 
looked  again  in  great  astonishment,  for  it  seemed 
not  much  larger  than  a  big  gray  squirrel !  Now  it 
moved,  and  began  to  whine  and  wag  its  head. 
Thrusting  its  little  nose  up  and  down,  it  made  an 
appealing,  plaintive,  almost  human  call. 

"Bruno  is  hungry,  mother,"  said  one  of  the 
children. 


1 8  WILD  BROTHER 

"Will  you  excuse  me,  Mr.  Underwood?"  the 
mother  asked,  as  she  took  the  little  creature  from 
its  bed.  "He's  real  hungry  and  I  have  n't  fed  him 
since  noon,"  she  added. 

As  he  felt  the  warm  hands  of  his  benefactress 
about  him,  there  came  a  comfortable  soothing  tone 
in  the  little  creature's  complaining,  and  a  few  min- 
utes later  his  murmuring  ceased  altogether  as, 
gently  moving  to  and  fro  in  her  rocking-chair,  the 
kindly  mother,  with  her  back  toward  me,  fed  her 
foster-child. 

The  simplicity  of  it  all  —  the  crooning  baby  now 
in  its  cradle  with  one  of  the  little  girls  rocking  it, 
the  other  children  playing  about  the  primitive  log- 
walled  cabin,  with  its  crude  but  ample  home-made 
furniture  —  impressed  me  deeply.  The  room  was 
redolent  with  the  woodsy  smell  of  timber ;  the  after- 
noon sun  shone  through  the  window  and  lighted 
up  the  rough  but  clean  plank  floor.  It  all  seemed 
so  homelike  and  natural. 

Many  questions  crowded  all  at  once  into  my 
mind;  but  before  I  could  ask  them,  there  were 
voices  outside,  the  latch  was  lifted,  and  the  cook, 
the  woman's  husband,  came  into  the  cabin.  He 
was  a  tall  stalwart  man,  with  a  frank  and  honest 
face.  After  his  wife's  introduction,  he  greeted  me 
pleasantly  and  explained  that  it  would  be  impos- 
sible to  put  all  of  us  up  for  the  night.  The  men's 


AT  GORDON'S  CAMP  19 

quarters  were  small,  and  every  bunk  was  taken. 
If  I  myself  wished  to  stay,  perhaps  one  of  the  men 
would  share  his  bed  with  me.  It  was  also  out  of  the 
question  to  accommodate  the  horses.  The  hovel, 
as  the  backwoods  stable  is  called,  was  full;  and 
with  the  temperature  far  below  zero,  it  would  be 
impossible  to  stand  the  animals  outside  during  the 
night. 

After  a  hasty  supper,  my  teamster  and  our  guide 
said  good-bye  and  started  back  to  the  settlement. 
It  was  to  be  a  moonlight  night  and  they  would 
have  no  trouble  in  getting  out.  My  driver  prom- 
ised to  return  for  me  next  day  if  no  storm  should 
come  up  in  the  meantime  to  block  the  roads.  I 
had  come  a  long  way  for  this  bear-story  and  I  did 
not  intend  to  go  home  without  it. 

At  sundown  the  men  came  in  from  their  work. 
Your  lumberman  has  but  few  idle  moments  in  his 
programme ;  he  is  up  before  dawn,  and,  as  soon  as 
it  is  light  enough  to  swing  an  axe,  begins  his  day's 
work.  An  hour  off  at  noon,  and  then  till  sunset  his 
labor  goes  on. 

The  biggest  man  in  camp  offered  to  share  his  bed 
with  me,  and  it  was  after  midnight  before  we  re- 
tired. I  was  an  eager  listener  to  many  backwoods 
stories  told  that  evening  round  the  ramdown  stove. 
Once  there  came  an  interruption.  I  could  hear  the 
wailing  of  the  little  bear  in  the  woman's  quarters. 


20  WILD  BROTHER 

The  voice  was  soon  quieted,  and  the  men  told  me 
that  Mrs.  Weldon  was  feeding  the  cub.  Weldon,  I 
may  say  now,  is  not  the  real  name  of  this  kind- 
hearted  woman,  but  it  will  serve  to  identify  her 
throughout  this  narrative  and  will  make  it  unneces- 
sary for  me  to  reveal  her  own  equally  good  Ameri- 
can name,  which,  because  she  shuns  publicity,  she 
prefers  to  have  remain  unknown. 

Now  I  learned  for  the  first  time  the  truth  about 
the  bear  —  how  it  happened  that  Mrs.  Weldon 
took  him  in.  It  is  unusual  for  a  woman  to  have 
anything  to  do  with  a  logging-camp;  few  of  the 
wives  whose  husbands  work  in  the  woods  ever  see 
the  winter  quarters  of  their  men.  All  winter  long 
the  lumberjacks  are  away,  often  not  returning  until 
the  snow  has  gone,  in  the  spring.  It  so  chanced, 
however,  that  Mrs.  Weldon's  husband  was  a  good 
cook,  and  backwoods  cooks  are  in  great  demand. 
In  the  fall  of  the  year,  when  the  lumber  boss  of- 
fered him  a  job  at  good  pay,  he  at  first  refused  it, 
saying  that  he  didn't  care  to  leave  his  wife  and 
the  five  children  back  at  home.  But  Gordon,  who 
wanted  a  cook  badly,  suggested  that  he  bring  the 
wife  and  children  with  him,  and  occupy  a  cabin 
adjoining  the  camp.  The  bargain  was  made,  and 
Mrs.  Weldon  with  the  five  little  ones  —  two  of 
them  adopted  and  all  under  five  years  of  age  — 
moved  back  into  the  forest  twenty-three  miles  from 
her  home  village,  where  through  the  winter  snows, 


AT  GORDON'S  CAMP  21 

had  they  needed  the  services  of  a  doctor,  it  would 
at  times  have  been  extremely  difficult  to  get  one. 
Her  heart  was  brave  as  well  as  kind. 

One  day  in  January,  when  a  crew  of  swampers 
were  clearing  away  the  timber  and  brush  near  the 
camp  to  make  a  new  road,  they  began  to  have 
trouble  with  their  horses.  The  animals  acted 
strangely  every  time  they  approached  a  certain 
place  just  at  the  foot  of  a  small  ridge.  Whenever 
the  horses  reached  this  spot,  they  reared  and 
plunged  and  snorted  with  fright,  and  it  was  only 
by  force  and  much  persuasion  that  the  men  could 
keep  them  in  the  open  way. 

That  evening,  back  at  camp,  the  men  told  of  the 
unusual  behavior  of  the  horses.  Weldon,  the  cook, 
who  was  something  of  a  hunter,  suggested  that 
there  must  have  been  a  bear  somewhere  about,  for 
a  horse  always  acts  in  this  way  when  in  the  vicin- 
ity of  one  of  these  animals. 

The  idea  was  ridiculed,  for  everyone  knew  that 
no  bears  would  be  roaming  around  at  that  time  of 
the  year.  But  the  cook  kept  his  own  counsel,  and 
next  day  he  went  out  to  the  ridge  to  investigate. 
In  a  short  time  he  made  a  discovery.  At  the  foot 
of  a  huge  dead  pine  tree  he  noticed  a  small  hole  in 
the  snow,  rimmed  with  ice  and  frost.  He  knew 
pretty  well  what  had  made  it,  and  with  his  snow- 
shoes  he  began  to  dig. 

When  he  reached  the  ground,  he  found  a  large 


22  WILD  BROTHER 

burrow  in  the  earth,  which  led  down  beneath  the 
roots  of  the  tree  into  a  dark  underground  cave. 
With  his  axe  he  cut  a  sapling  and  poked  the  end  of 
it  into  the  darkness.  The  pole  struck  something 
soft  and  yielding,  and  as  he  pushed  upon  it  there 
came  from  the  hole  a  complaining  grunt.  He 
poked  again,  and  now  he  heard  an  ugly  warning 
growl;  he  had  found  a  black  bear's  den  and  the 
old  bear  was  at  home. 

The  black  bear  always  has  a  snug  cozy  home  for 
the  cold  months  of  the  year.  On  the  first  approach 
of  winter,  he  sets  at  work  to  put  his  house  in  order. 
Often  his  dwelling  will  be  a  cave  in  the  rocks,  and 
sometimes,  when  he  comes  to  his  home  for  the 
winter,  he  may  find  another  bear  already  occupy- 
ing his  quarters.  If  he  cannot  find  another  cave, 
he  makes  himself  a  new  one,  usually  selecting  a  spot 
beneath  some  big  dead  tree,  where  the  digging  will 
be  easy.  The  soft  earth  flies  while  with  his  big 
powerful  paws  he  burrows  deep  into  the  ground. 
The  excavation  finished,  he  lines  the  bottom  a  foot 
deep  with  hardwood  leaves,  and  is  ready  to  move  in. 

One  cold  night  in  November  this  bear,  the 
mother  of  the  cub  in  the  lumber-camp,  had  crawled 
into  her  retreat  under  the  dead  pine  tree.  Hidden 
away  in  her  comfortable  nest,  she  soon  dropped 
off  into  her  long  winter's  nap.  The  ground  froze 
hard;  the  cold  winds  blew  and  piled  the  drifting 


The  den  where  the  bear  was  born  and  the  man  who  found  hit, 


AT  GORDON'S  CAMP  23 

snow  across  her  doorway,  but  she  slept  on  in  her 
sheltered  abode,  with  no  thought  of  cold  or  the 
storms  outside.  The  warmth  of  her  furry  body 
melted  somewhat  the  surrounding  snow  and  made 
a  hole  through  to  the  outer  air.  This  opening 
served  as  ventilator  and  chimney,  and  later  on, 
when  the  cold  of  midwinter  came,  the  damp  snow 
froze  hard  and  the  mother  bear  was  shut  in  for  the 
season.  It  troubled  her  not  at  all,  however,  for 
wise  Nature  has  made  special  provision  for  bears. 
During  the  time  of  plenty,  in  the  late  summer  and 
early  fall,  when  the  wild  berries  and  nuts  are  ripe, 
bears  store  up  a  harvest  of  fat  beneath  their  sleek 
coats.  Without  this  stock  of  nourishment  to  tide 
them  over,  these  animals  would  starve  in  winter, 
for  at  this  period  they  can  find  no  suitable  food. 
Through  three  or  four  months  they  sleep  on,  in 
blissful  ignorance  of  conditions  outside. 

On  his  discovery  of  the  bear,  the  cook  ran  back 
to  the  camp,  secured  a  gun,  and  with  one  of  the 
men  returned  to  the  dead  pine.  Poking  the  rifle 
down  into  the  hole,  he  fired.  The  bear  was  killed, 
and  with  some  difficulty  the  two  men  dragged  her 
body  out  on  the  snow.  They  saw  at  once  that  their 
prize  was  a  large  one,  a  bear  that  would  weigh 
more  than  two  hundred  pounds.  Immediately 
they  started  to  take  off  the  skin  and  prepare  the 
meat,  and  were  proceeding  with  the  work,  when 


24  WILD  BROTHER 

they  were  interrupted  by  a  plaintive  cry  from  the 
hole  in  the  ground.  They  stopped  and  listened. 
Again  they  heard  it,  a  whimpering,  pitiful  call  of 
distress. 

The  cook  lay  flat  on  the  snow,  and  reaching  down 
into  the  den  touched  a  small  soft  object.  Wonder- 
ingly  he  drew  it  forth  into  the  daylight.  To  his 
amazement  he  beheld  a  tiny  little  bear,  no  larger 
than  a  gray  squirrel.  Its  eyes  were  not  open,  and 
it  wriggled  helplessly  in  his  hand. 

Of  course  the  men,  when  they  killed  the  bear, 
did  not  know  about  the  cub  down  below,  but  it 
probably  would  have  made  no  difference  if  they 
had.  Bearskins  were  worth  twenty-five  dollars, 
and  the  state  would  pay  a  bounty  of  ten  dollars ; 
moreover,  the  meat  was  needed  in  the  lumber- 
camp  for  food. 

Few  people  realize  how  diminutive  at  birth 
black-bear  cubs  are.  They  weigh  only  from  nine  to 
twelve  ounces,  and  are  about  the  size  of  a  little 
kitten.  Their  bodies  are  almost  naked  —  only 
partly  covered  with  short  dark  hair.  Their  eyes 
remain  shut  until  they  are  about  five  weeks  old. 
Not  until  their  mother  takes  them  out  in  the  warm 
weather  of  spring,  when  they  are  three  to  four 
months  old,  do  the  cubs  leave  their  birthplace. 
They  are  never  seen  in  the  woods  until  they  have 
grown  considerably  and  can  run  about  with  ease 


AT  GORDON'S  CAMP  25 

and,  when  occasion  requires,  climb  a  tree  to  a  place 
of  safety.  Very  few  woodsmen  or  hunters  are  aware 
of  these  facts.  The  cubs  that  they  see  in  May  or 
June  they  will  tell  you  are  only  three  or  four  weeks 
old.  Months,  they  should  say. 

When  the  meat  had  been  prepared  and  the  skin 
rolled  into  a  bundle,  the  cub  was  slipped  into  the 
big  pocket  of  the  cook's  overcoat  and  taken  to  the 
camp.  The  children  laughed  with  glee,  marveling 
at  the  wee  small  creature,  and  the  lumbermen, 
coming  in  from  felling  the  trees,  gazed  at  it  curi- 
ously and  touched  it  tenderly  with  their  rough 
hands.  But  what  could  be  done  with  it?  How 
could  it  be  fed  ?  Milk  seemed  to  be  the  only  proper 
thing  to  give  it,  since  it  was  quite  evident  that  the 
little  animal  had  not  yet  been  weaned ;  but  where 
could  they  get  any  milk  ?  They  had  no  cow,  nor 
did  they  have  any  canned  milk,  for  that  was  in  the 
days  before  condensed  and  evaporated  milk  had 
become  part  of  the  food-supply  of  every  backwoods 
camp. 

No  one  was  able  to  suggest  a  plan  for  saving  the 
life  of  the  tiny  orphan  and,  as  the  hours  passed, 
death  by  starvation  seemed  to  be  its  inevitable 
end.  But  the  cub  himself,  having  something  to  say 
on  the  matter,  let  his  voice  be  heard  in  an  unmis- 
takable and  universal  language.  He  cried,  and  the 
meaning  of  his  cry  was:  "Take  me  back  to  my 


26  WILD  BROTHER 

mother ;  I  am  hungry  and  forsaken."  The  sound 
of  his  wailing  was  startlingly  like  that  of  an  infant ; 
anyone  unaware  would  have  said  that  a  child  was 
in  distress.  His  whimpering  little  call  for  help, 
repeated  again  and  again,  touched  the  woman's 
tender  heart ;  it  suddenly  occurred  to  her  that  there 
was  one  way  out.  She  herself  could  save  its  life 
by  letting  it  share  the  food  that  she  was  giving  to 
her  baby  girl. 

"You  have  killed  its  mother  and  I  alone  can  save 
it,"  she  said  to  her  husband.  "Poor  lonely  creature. 
I  '11  do  my  best  to  bring  it  up." 

And  so,  with  pity  in  her  heart,  she  cherished  the 
cub  and  took  it  to  her  breast.  From  the  23d  of 
January  she  had  nursed  it  daily,  and  the  milk  of 
human  kindness  had  sustained  and  saved  its  life. 

Here  was  a  story,  sure  enough.  Was  ever  one 
like  it  told  before  ? 

It  was  very  late  when  we  retired.  I  took  the  in- 
side of  the  bunk  close  to  the  logs  of  the  wall.  My 
big  bedfellow  was  soon  fast  asleep,  and  save  for 
the  deep  and  regular  breathing  of  the  tired  men  and 
the  hum  of  the  tea-kettle  on  the  stove,  all  was 
quiet. 

For  a  long  time  I  lay  wide-awake.  A  lantern 
suspended  from  one  of  the  rafters  overhead  shed  a 
dim  light  on  the  simple  wooded  interior.  Up  above 
the  stove,  on  a  frame  of  sapling  poles,  long  rows 


Life  in  the  deep  woods  agreed  with  Ursula 


AT  GORDON'S  CAMP  27 

of  thick  woolen  socks  were  drying  —  to  be  ready 
and  warm  for  the  morning's  work. 

My  thoughts  went  back  to  the  stories  I  had  read 
of  life  in  the  days  of  long  ago,  and  I  turned  over 
and  over  in  my  mind  the  strange  events  of  the  day. 
It  was  hard  to  wait  for  the  morning  light,  when  I 
was  to  see  the  bear's  den  and  take  the  pictures 
without  which  I  feared  that  no  one  would  believe 
my  story.  The  spicy  odor  of  the  fir-bough  bed 
beneath  me  finally  induced  a  drowsy  forgetfulness, 
however,  and  I  dropped  off  to  sleep.  It  was  just 
coming  light  when  my  bunk-mate  poked  me  in  the 
ribs,  and  brought  me  back  to  the  land  of 
realities. 

The  men  were  sitting  on  the  rough-hewn  deacon 
seat,  putting  on  their  long  woolen  socks  —  pulling 
them  up  over  their  trousers,  which  were  wrapped 
tightly  round  their  ankles.  They  had  scarcely 
finished,  when  the  cook  with  a  big  spoon  beat  a 
vigorous  tattoo  on  the  bottom  of  a  dishpan,  to 
notify  us  that  breakfast  was  served.  Baked  beans 
and  pork,  brown  bread,  saleratus  biscuit,  molasses 
ginger-cookies,  apple-sauce,  tea  and  coffee  were  the 
fare. 

Outside,  the  air  was  bitter  cold,  with  the  ther- 
mometer standing  at  20  degrees  below  zero;  but 
mere  cold  was  nothing  to  these  hardy  woodsmen, 
and  after  the  dishes  were  washed,  the  cook  sug- 


28  WILD  BROTHER 

gested  that  I  visit  the  bear's  den.  He  would  be 
glad  to  show  me  the  way. 

Strapping  snowshoes  on  our  feet,  we  set  out 
through  the  woods  for  the  dead  pine  tree  that 
marked  the  spot  where  Bruno  had  been  born.  In 
the  shelter  of  the  forest  the  snow  lay  four  feet  deep 
on  the  level,  and  as  we  walked  comfortably  along 
on  its  surface,  I  wondered  what  these  backwoods- 
men would  think  if  they  saw  us,  as  we  sometimes 
do  at  home,  leave  the  good  walking  on  roads  and 
sidewalks,  and  tramp  with  snowshoes  across  the 
fields,  when  there  are  only  a  few  inches  of  snow  on 
the  ground.  But  here  snowshoes  are  not  used  for 
sport.  They  are  a  necessity,  and  must  be  worn  if 
one  leaves  the  beaten  track. 

The  den  was  not  more  than  a  third  of  a  mile 
from  the  camp,  and  it  seemed  rather  strange  that 
the  mother  bear  should  have  used  it  that  winter, 
for  Gordon  built  his  cabins  early  in  September  and 
moved  in  during  the  last  of  that  month.  In  De- 
cember one  of  the  men  shot  a  large  male  bear  only 
a  short  distance  from  the  camp.  In  all  probability 
this  was  Bruno's  father.  Male  bears  are  often  slow 
about  turning  in  for  the  winter. 

Close  beside  the  branch  road  that  had  been 
swamped  out  in  January  stood  the  old  pine.  The 
opening  of  the  den,  as  I  saw  it  now,  was  much 
larger  than  when  it  was  first  discovered,  on  Jan- 


AT  GORDON'S  CAMP  29 

uary  23,  for  of  course  the  snow  had  been  cleared 
away  in  order  to  get  the  bear  out.  It  looked  like  a 
comfortable  place  down  inside  —  a  round  cave 
like  a  bowl,  with  a  soft  ten-inch  bed  of  dry  birch 
and  maple  leaves,  mixed  with  a  few  pine-needles, 
covering  the  floor.  Beneath  this  dry  bedding  were 
two  or  three  inches  of  damp  mouldy  vegetation, 
showing  that  this  winter  home  had  been  used  for 
several  seasons.  With  the  exception  of  one  small 
birch  tree  just  behind  the  dead  pine,  there  were  no 
other  hardwood  trees  in  sight  that  could  have  fur- 
nished the  material  for  the  nest.  Bruno's  mother 
must  have  brought  her  bedding  from  quite  a  dis- 
tance. 

The  cook  stood  close  beside  the  open  doorway, 
and  I  took  my  first  picture.  That  it  was  intensely 
cold  that  morning  can  be  seen  by  the  white  frost 
that  covers  his  beard  and  moustache.  The  photo- 
graph was  taken  from  the  logging  road.  In  order 
to  clear  the  way  for  this  road,  a  number  of  trees 
had  been  felled  within  a  few  feet  of  the  den  —  ap- 
parently without  in  the  least  disturbing  the  hiber- 
nating bear.  The  newly  cut  end  of  a  cedar  stick 
can  be  seen  just  to  the  right,  above  the  entrance. 

As  we  walked  back  to  camp,  the  cook  told  me 
that  as  yet  his  baby  girl  had  not  been  named.  His 
wife  wanted  to  get  a  suitable  name,  something 
that  would  suggest  to  her  daughter  when  she  grew 


30  WILD  BROTHER 

up  that  she  had  been  foster-sister  to  a  bear.  "It 
would  be  fine,  sir,"  said  he,  "if  you  could  only 
think  of  some  such  name." 

I  told  him  that,  after  I  reached  home,  I  would  do 
my  best  to  find  one  that  would  be  appropriate. 
My  head  was  now  too  full  of  this  strange  adventure 
to  give  heed  to  anything  else. 

The  next  thing  on  my  programme  was  to  get  a 
picture  of  Bruno ;  but  this  was  not  so  easy.  He 
was  a  helpless  little  creature,  not  yet  able  to 
stand  up  on  his  legs  and  walk,  though  with  his  fat 
little  black-clothed  body  resting  on  the  floor,  he 
could  wriggle  and  push  himself  about  to  some  ex- 
tent, like  a  baby  just  learning  to  creep.  On  Feb- 
ruary 19,  the  day  before  my  arrival,  he  had  opened 
his  eyes  for  the  first  time.  "I  guess  he  heard  you 
were  coming,  Mr.  Underwood,  and  he  wanted  to 
see  you,"  said  one  of  the  little  girls.  The  natural- 
history  books  tell  us  that  black  bear-cubs  get  their 
eyes  open  when  they  are  thirty  or  forty  days  old, 
so  this  would  make  Bruno's  birthday  about  the 
1 5th  of  January. 

First,  I  weighed  and  measured  him.  From  the 
end  of  his  short  stubby  tail,  which  was  only  five 
eighths  of  an  inch  long,  to  the  end  of  his  nose,  his 
length  was  twelve  and  a  half  inches.  From  the  end 
of  his  nosf  to  the  back  of  his  head,  he  measured 
three  inches.  Around  his  stocky  little  chest,  the 


AT  GORDON'S  CAMP  31 

tape  showed  eight  and  three  quarters  inches,  and 
he  weighed  just  two  pounds — not  a  great  weight  for 
a  month-old  baby  of  a  two-hundred-pound  mother. 

When  I  put  my  ringer  in  his  mouth  he  began  to 
whine  and  to  suck  at  it,  and  I  could  feel  several 
small  sharp  teeth  that  were  pricking  up  through 
the  gums.  He  was  hungry  and  wanted  his  food. 
It  was  nearly  noon  and  baby  sister  was  having  her 
lunch. 

"Why  can't  Bruno  have  some,  too  ?"  said  one  of 
the  boys. 

I  had  previously  asked  Mrs.  Weldon  if  I  could 
take  a  picture  of  the  cub  when  he  was  feeding.  I 
explained  that  no  one  would  believe  my  story  un- 
less I  could  show  proof  of  it.  Very  readily  the  good 
woman  consented  to  my  request.  She  was  per- 
fectly willing  that  I  should  show  her  picture.  She 
merely  asked  that  her  name  should  be  withheld. 
To  this  I  gladly  consented,  and  I  further  assured 
her  that,  for  her  better  protection,  all  pictures  of 
her,  as  well  as  those  of  the  bear,  would  be  copy- 
righted. 

The  faint  light  of  the  cabin  was  not  sufficient 
for  quick  photography,  and  an  instantaneous  ex- 
posure would  be  necessary  to  secure  good  results. 
I  saw  that  I  should  have  to  use  a  flashlight,  and 
so  I  set  my  camera  on  a  tripod,  loaded  the  flash- 
gun, and  stood  ready  to  fire. 


32  WILD  BROTHER 

Comfortably  settled  in  the  mother's  lap,  both 
the  bear  and  the  baby  were  enjoying  their  midday 
refreshment.  A  proud  and  affectionate  smile  stole 
over  the  gentle  woman's  face  as  she  glanced  down 
at  the  little  ones.  I  pulled  the  trigger,  and  there 
came  a  vivid  flash  and  a  dull  heavy  report  that 
rattled  the  dishes  on  the  shelves. 

Pandemonium  prevailed.  The  room  was  filled 
with  smoke.  Above  the  crying  of  the  frightened 
children  could  be  heard  the  high  falsetto  squeal  of 
the  terrified  bear. 

"Land  sakes  alive,  Mr.  Underwood !"  exclaimed 
the  startled  parent.  "Why  did  n't  you  tell  us  what 
was  going  to  happen  ?" 

To  add  to  the  excitement  and  confusion  the  cook, 
who  in  the  men's  room  had  heard  the  jarring  re- 
port, came  rushing  in.  Blinded  by  the  smoke  and 
dismayed  at  the  uproar,  for  a  few  minutes  he 
was  panic-stricken. 

It  took  some  time  to  quiet  the  family  and  assure 
them  that  no  harm  had  been  done.  When  the 
smoke  had  cleared  away,  I  explained  to  them  that, 
if  I  had  told  them  what  was  going  to  happen,  they 
would  have  been  frightened  before  the  event  oc- 
curred, and  the  mother's  expression  would  have 
been  strange  and  unnatural. 

Now  that  everything  was  all  right,  and  no  one 
had  been  hurt,  the  children  were  for  having  an- 


AT  GORDON'S  CAMP  33 

other  exhibition,  and  they  asked  me  to  fire  another 
shot.  So  I  took  a  picture  of  the  baby  sister  in  her 
mother's  lap.  She  was  now  nearly  nine  months 
old,  and  in  order  that  there  should  be  plenty  of 
food  for  her  foster-brother,  she  was  being  weaned, 
and  occasionally  they  fed  her  on  that  good  old  New 
England  stand-by,  baked  beans  and  pork.  It  may 
be  seen  by  referring  to  her  picture  that  the  diet 
agreed  with  her. 

As  I  had  hoped  to  buy  the  bear  and  take  him 
home  with  me,  I  had  brought  a  nursing-bottle 
and  some  cans  of  condensed  milk —  then  a  rare 
commodity  in  the  woods — so  that  he  could  be 
well  fed  on  his  journey  to  Boston.  Diluting  the 
milk  with  warm  water,  I  now  filled  the  bottle,  and 
the  oldest  child  gave  Bruno  his  first  commercial 
food.  Stretched  out  on  the  table- top,  with  his  fat 
little  body  sagging  down  on  the  oilcloth  cover,  he 
took  his  new  fare  with  apparent  relish. 

This  pleased  me  very  much,  for  now  I  should 
have  no  trouble  about  feeding  him  on  the  way 
home.  It  soon  proved,  however,  that  I  had  been  a 
little  "previous"  in  my  calculations,  for  when  I 
asked  Mrs.  Weldon  how  much  money  she  wanted 
for  the  bear,  I  received  an  instant  rebuff. 

"Sell  my  cub?  I  guess  not!"  she  exclaimed 
with  great  indignation;  and  then  added:  "Why, 
Mr.  Underwood,  you  have  n't  got  money  enough 


34  WILD  BROTHER 

to  buy  him.  I  would  n't  any  more  sell  Bruno  than 
I  would  sell  my  baby,  and  you  must  know  that  I 
would  n't  sell  my  baby." 

Just  to  try  her,  I  took  twenty-five  dollars  from 
my  pocket  and  asked  her  to  accept  it,  remarking 
that  I  had  understood  that  it  was  for  sale,  and  in 
fact  I  had  been  told  before  I  left  Boston  that  it  had 
been  sold. 

"No,  sir,  it  is  not  for  sale,"  she  emphatically  re- 
plied: "not  for  twenty  times  twenty-five  dollars. 
You  could  n't  carry  enough  money  in  your  pockets 
to  buy  this  bear,  Mr.  Underwood." 

This  seemed  quite  final,  but  I  inquired  further 
about  the  letter  that  I  had  received  telling  me  of 
the  sale.  And  this  is  the  story  that  I  was  told,  first 
by  Mrs.  Weldon,  and  afterward  by  some  of  the  men. 

The  first  time  Gordon,  the  boss  of  the  camp, 
went  out  to  the  settlement  and  told  about  the 
little  bear,  some  commercial  traveling  men,  hear- 
ing the  story,  offered  to  buy  the  cub.  They  thought 
that  they  might  make  some  money  by  exhibiting 
a  bear  which  had  been  brought  up  in  such  an  un- 
usual way.  To  bind  the  bargain  and  make  sure  of 
their  prize,  they  gave  the  boss  a  check.  A  few 
days  later,  Gordon  went  back  into  the  woods  to 
get  the  cub,  but  the  woman  refused  to  give  it  up. 
It  was  her  bear,  she  had  saved  its  life,  and  no  one 
was  going  to  take  it  from  her. 


AT  GORDON'S  CAMP  35 

But  Gordon  would  not  listen  to  her  pleading. 
He  was  the  boss  of  that  camp ;  he  had  sold  that 
bear  and  had  received  the  money,  and  he  was  going 
to  deliver  the  goods. 

The  cook,  a  mild-mannered  man,  advised  his 
wife  not  to  make  any  trouble  but  to  give  the  cub 
up.  Very  unwillingly  she  consented,  and  Bruno 
was  taken  into  the  men's  cabin,  where  he  was  to 
spend  the  night  before  leaving  for  the  village  next 
day.  Toward  evening,  the  cub  became  hungry 
and  began  to  cry  for  his  supper.  As  his  suffering 
grew  more  intense,  his  cries  became  the  louder, 
until  Mrs.  Weldon  in  the  adjoining  cabin  heard 
his  pitiful  voice,  and  in  sympathy  she  too  began 
to  cry. 

At  sunset  the  men,  tired  from  their  long  day's 
work,  came  back  to  the  camp.  The  bear  was  howl- 
ing and  the  woman  crying.  The  outlook  for  a  quiet 
night  seemed  not  very  good.  Injustice  was  being 
done.  An  indignation  meeting  was  held,  and  the 
boss  was  requested  to  relieve  the  situation.  The 
crew  demanded  that  Bruno  be  returned.  "She 
saved  his  life,  and  he  belongs  to  her,"  they  said. 
"You  give  him  back  to-night,  or  to-morrow  we 
quit  work.  You  can  stay  and  cut  spruce,  but 
you  '11  cut  it  alone.  Give  him  back  or  we  are  done." 

It  was  a  righteous  strike;  the  boss  gave  in,  and 
once  more  the  bear  was  saved. 


36  WILD  BROTHER 

Soon  after  lunch  my  teamster  arrived,  and  we 
started  back  for  the  settlements  with  one  of  the 
woodsmen  who  was  going  out.  We  were  talking 
about  the  bear,  when  I  mentioned  that  I  had  a  duty 
to  perform  —  that  I  must  find  a  suitable  name  for 
the  baby. 

"I  wish  yer  would  git  a  name  fer  that  kid,  Mr. 
Underwood,"  said  the  lumberman.  "Us  fellers 
has  scratched  our  hair  thin  on  the  tops  of  our 
heads,  and  we've  wore  out  all  the  almanacs  in 
camp  lookin'  fer  a  good  name  fer  that  girl." 

After  reaching  home  my  first  concern  was  to  de- 
velop my  photographs  —  and  they  came  out  very 
well.  I  next  gave  my  mind  to  the  selection  of  a 
name  for  the  foster-sister.  In  a  family  council  we 
went  thoroughly  into  the  question.  After  due  de- 
liberation, it  was  unanimously  voted  that  Ursula 
was  most  appropriate.  I  wrote  a  letter  to  Mrs. 
Weldon,  and  told  her  that  Ursula  was  a  Latin  word 
meaning  little  she-bear,  and  I  sent  her  a  silver 
spoon  that  had  come  from  Berne,  Switzerland. 
On  the  top  of  its  handle  was  a  little  silver  bear, 
and  on  the  bowl  I  had  had  engraved,  "Ursula, 
February  20,  1903";  and  by  that  name  the  baby 
was  christened,  though  they  threw  in  for  good 
measure  the  ponderous  name  of  Underwood.  To 
make  up  for  this  defect,  however,  they  called  her 
Lala  for  short. 


By  this  name  the  foster-sister  of  the  bear  was  christened 


AT  GORDON'S  CAMP  37 

After  my  return  from  Maine  the  attitude  of  my 
friends  toward  the  story  changed  somewhat.  When 
they  had  heard  of  the  incident  before  I  set  out  on 
my  quest,  they  had  ridiculed  the  idea.  They  would 
not  believe  that  any  woman  would  take  care  of  a 
bear  in  that  way.  The  thought  of  such  a  thing  was 
repellent  to  them. 

"Why!"  they  exclaimed,  "you  couldn't  take  a 
photograph  of  such  an  occurrence ;  and  even  if  you 
should  take  one,  you  never  could  show  it  to  anyone, 
for  no  one  would  care  to  see  it." 

To  this  argument  I  had  replied  that  I  would  not 
cross  the  bridge  until  I  came  to  it.  If  the  thing  was 
being  done,  it  was  unusual  enough  to  warrant  an 
investigation.  I  wanted  to  get  the  truth,  if  for  no 
other  reason  than  my  own  satisfaction. 

Now,  when  my  critics  understood  the  motive 
behind  Mrs.  Weldon's  deed  of  compassion,  and 
when  they  saw  her  "pictures  and  looked  upon  her 
kindly  face,  they  realized  that  their  position  was 
wholly  wrong.  Here  was  a  humble  woman,  whose 
sympathetic  heart  was  torn  by  a  cry  of  distress 
from  the  wilderness,  a  call  that  her  gentle  nature 
could  not  resist.  Alone  with  her  loving  family,  with 
no  thought  or  care  for  what  the  world  outside 
might  think,  she  did  the  natural  thing  and  obeyed 
her  impulse  to  save  a  life.  All  honor  to  her  for  her 
compassion ! 


38  WILD  BROTHER 

The  effect  that  the  story  had  upon  different  peo- 
ple, however,  was  rather  curious.  I  soon  learned 
that  it  wasr  better  not  to  tell  it,  especially  if  ladies 
were  present,  without  the  pictures  to  prove  my 
facts  and  to  show  the  real  character  of  Mrs.  Wei- 
don.  I  had  a  striking  example  of  this  feeling  sev- 
eral years  after  my  first  introduction  to  the  bear, 
when  the  story  had  become  rather  well  known  in 
my  vicinity. 

One  afternoon  in  summer,  a  number  of  men  and 
women  were  sitting  about  on  the  verandah  of  a 
hotel.  The  men  were  discussing  various  sports, 
particularly  fishing  and  hunting.  The  subject  of 
bears  came  up,  and  in  the  course  of  conversation 
someone  asked  if  anyone  had  heard  about  the  bear 
that  was  brought  up  as  a  child.  One  lady  replied, 
"Yes,  I  have  heard  about  it,  and  I  think  it  is  the 
most  disgusting  story  that  I  ever  listened  to." 

I  immediately  sat  up  and  gave  attention.  She 
seemed  quite  angry  and  impatient.  "I  can't  im- 
agine any  woman  doing  such  a  horrible  thing,"  she 
went  on. 

After  her  resentment  had  been  fully  expressed, 
and  she  had  quieted  down  a  bit,  a  general  discus- 
sion ensued.  At  the  first  lull  in  the  conversation,  I 
mildly  asked  the  lady  where  she  had  heard  the 
story,  and  received  the  reply  that  her  husband  had 
told  her  about  it. 


AT  GORDON'S  CAMP  39 

"  Did  he  tell  you  why  the  woman  had  done  such 
a  thing  ?"  I  inquired. 

"Oh,  for  the  sake  of  notoriety  I  suppose,"  she 
replied. 

Here  was  my  chance  and  I  improved  it. 

"Now,"  I  said,  "I  should  like  to  tell  you  the 
truth  about  that  story  if  you  would  care  to  hear  it." 

She  was  rather  indifferent,  but  the  other  people 
were  keen  for  it,  and  I  gave  them  the  real  facts.  I 
happened  to  have  some  of  my  photographs  with 
me,  and  offered  to  get  them  if  anyone  wished  to 
see  them.  The  lady  took  no  particular  interest  in 
them  at  first ;  but  when  they  were  passed  around, 
and  the  other  people  began  to  express  their  sur- 
prise and  pleasure,  she  condescended  to  take  a  look. 

Rather  to  my  surprise,  some  time  afterwards, 
this  same  person  asked  me  if  I  would  mind  showing 
the  pictures  to  her  little  girl!  She  then  admitted 
that  she  had  been  wrong  in  her  judgment  about  the 
story. 

Weeks  went  by,  and  I  heard  nothing  more  from 
my  forest  friends.  Evidently  Bruno  was  behaving 
himself,  for  Mrs.  Weldon  had  promised  to  let  me 
know  if  he  got  too  big  and  strong,  and,  either  in 
play  or  intentionally,  hurt  his  foster-sister,  Ursula. 

On  the  approach  of  spring,  as  the  days  grew 
longer  and  lost  their  wintry  chill,  I  began  to  ex- 
perience, as  usual  at  that  season  of  the  year,  a  cer- 


40  WILD  BROTHER 

tain  restlessness  that  betokened  the  approach  of  an 
attack  of  spring  fever.  Each  night  I  dreamed  of 
woods  and  fields,  of  sunlit  lakes  and  shady  forest 
streams.  By  the  first  of  May  the  malady  was  at  its 
height. 

There  is  only  one  really  effective  thing  to  be  done 
for  spring  fever.  With  me  the  remedy  is  simple 
if  quickly  applied.  It  is  to  say  good-bye  to  the 
city,  close  my  desk,  shut  my  door,  and  buy  a  ticket 
for  the  woods. 

On  the  3rd  of  May  this  remedy  was  applied,  and 
Comrade  and  I  were  ofT  for  a  spring  outing,  to  visit 
my  camp  in  Maine.  I  was  getting  together  mate- 
rial for  lectures  on  the  lumber  industry  that  year, 
and  now  it  occurred  to  me  that  a  side-trip  to  visit 
the  lumber-camp  where  Bruno  was  living  would 
serve  two  purposes,  for  I  was  anxious  to  see  again 
the  Weldons  and  the  cub. 


CHAPTER  III 
MAY-TIME  IN  THE  FOREST 

IN  1903  spring  came  much  earlier  than  usual. 
The  ice  went  out  of  the  lakes  in  our  region  of  Maine 
about  the  middle  of  April,  more  than  two  weeks 
ahead  of  the  average  date,  and  when  we  went  into 
Gordon's  camp,  the  season  had  completely  changed 
the  appearance  of  the  country.  The  logs  that  in 
February  were  being  hauled  on  to  the  ice  were  now 
floating  in  a  big  boom  at  the  foot  of  the  lake.  The 
gate  had  been  hoisted  in  the  dam,  and  the  stream 
down  below,  swollen  to  a  freshet  pitch,  was  full  of 
big  sticks,  tossing  and  swerving  as  they  shot  like 
arrows  down  through  the  white-water  rapids.  A 
crew  of  river-drivers,  with  long  steel-shod  pick- 
poles,  lined  the  banks  to  guide  and  push  off  the 
logs  that  often  threatened  to  run  aground  on  the 
sharp  bends  in  the  river.  A  few  weeks  before,  when 
winter  had  held  the  northland  in  its  grip,  I  had 
listened  to  the  shrilling  of  sled-runners  on  hard 
snow  and  to  the  snapping  of  trees  in  the  frost ;  now 
the  songs  of  the  earliest  birds  and  the  calling  of 
the  hylas  and  wood-frogs  mingled  with  the  sound  of 
running  water,  and  our  eyes  were  greeted  with  burst- 
ing buds  and  with  green  shoots  breaking  the  forest 
floor,  in  haste  to  answer  the  call  of  the  May  sunshine. 


42  WILD  BROTHER 

Mrs.  Weldon  gave  us  a  warm  welcome,  and  with 
considerable  pride  brought  Bruno  forward  for  our 
inspection.  He  had  grown  considerably  since  I 
had  seen  him  in  February.  He  was  now  a  typical 
fat,  chubby  Teddy  Bear,  seven  pounds  in  weight. 
On  March  20,  when  he  was  two  months  old,  he  had 
weighed  three  and  a  quarter  pounds,  and  on  that 
day  had  walked  for  the  first  time.  His  round  little 
body  was  now  covered  with  a  soft  thick  coat  of 
brown  curly  wool.  The  short  black  silky  hair  with 
which  he  had  been  clothed  when  I  first  saw  him  in 
February  had  disappeared. 

In  Kipling's  "Jungle  Book,"  Baloo,  the  wise  old 
bear,  in  telling  of  the  laws  for  the  guidance  of  the 
wood-folk,  says:  — 

"  Oppress  not  the  cubs  of  the  stranger,  but  hail  them  as 

Sister  and  Brother, 

For  though  they  are  little  and  fubsy,  it  may  be  the  Bear 
is  their  mother." 

" Fubsy"  was  just  the  right  word  to  describe 
Bruno's  appearance  at  this  age.  Fubsy  and  fat  he 
was,  and  jolly  was  his  nature.  He  had  got  on 
splendidly  with  his  foster-brothers  and  sisters  — 
and  why  should  he  not  ?  A  better-behaved  lot  of 
children  I  had  never  met.  They  were  kind  and 
considerate  of  each  other,  and  their  attitude  to- 
ward their  parents  was  exceptionally  fine.  There 


MAY-TIME  IN  THE  FOREST         43 

was  no  disobedience  in  that  little  family,  and  never 
a  harsh  word  did  I  hear  spoken. 

Mrs.  Weldon  had  taken-  some  schoolbooks  into 
the  woods  with  her,  and  now  she  was  teaching  the 
little  ones  to  read  and  write.  Not  only  from  books 
did  she  instruct  them;  she  taught  them  also,  by 
example,  good  manners,  politeness,  and  kindness. 
No  favors  were  ever  shown  to  her  own  children  in 
which  the'  adopted  ones  did  not  share.  Many 
times  she  had  related  to  them  the  Bible  story  of 
the  Prophet  Elisha,  who  had  been  mocked  and  in- 
sulted by  the  children  of  Bethel.  Very  seriously 
she  told  them  how  Elisha,  when  these  children  had 
shouted  at  him,  "Go  up,  thou  Baldhead,"  had 
called  from  the  woods  two  great  mother  bears. 
With  a  solemn  face  she  emphasized  the  moral  of 
the  story,  as  she  told  how  the  great  beasts  rushed 
out  from  the  forest,  and,  as  a  punishment  for  the 
children's  rudeness,  tore  some  forty  of  them  into 
bits. 

Whenever  Bruno  got  a  chance,  he  crawled  into 
the  cradle  and  went  to  sleep  beside  little  Ursula. 
Snuggling  close  to  her,  he  poked  his  soft  woolly 
muzzle  under  her  chin,  and,  crooning  a  lullaby  in 
bear  language,  joined  the  baby  in  dreamland. 

Mrs.  Weldon  had  begun  to  wean  the  cub  in 
March.  At  first  he  did  not  like  the  condensed  milk 
that  I  had  brought  in ;  and  for  a  time  he  was  made 


44  WILD  BROTHER 

so  sick  that  it  was  necessary  to  put  him  again  on 
his  original  diet.  On  April  4  she  had  nursed  him  for 
the  last  time.  For  more  than  a  month  now,  stale 
bread  and  condensed  milk  diluted  with  water  had 
been  his  daily  fare.  Perhaps  the  condensed  milk 
helped  to  develop  his  sweet  tooth,  for  he  became 
very  fond  of  sugar.  He  would  often  climb  up  on 
the  table  before  the  dishes  had  been  cleared  away 
and  look  about  for  a  piece  of  cake,  and  put  his  nose 
down  into  all  the  tea-cups  to  see  if  by  chance  any 
sugar  had  been  left  in  the  bottom.  One  day  he 
found  a  jam-bucket  that  had  been  left  on  the 
kitchen  table.  When  they  discovered  him,  most 
of  the  jam  had  disappeared.  One  glance  at  the 
cub's  round  distended  body  told  where  the  jam 
was  secreted. 

"How  much  jam  would  he  eat?"  I  asked  Mrs. 
Weldon. 

"We  never  had  enough  to  find  out!"  she  an- 
swered. 

"Do  these  sweet  things  agree  with  him?" 

"No.  Sometimes  he  gets  an  awful  stomach- 
ache." 

"What  do  you  do  then  ?"  I  inquired. 

"Oh,  we  give  him  Castoria,  same  as  we  do  the 
baby,  and  he  always  comes  round  all  right  again." 

Of  all  the  foods  that  were  sweet,  honey  was  the 
most  to  Bruno's  liking  —  a  taste  which  he  had, 


MAY-TIME  IN  THE  FOREST         45 

doubtless,  inherited,  for  all  black  bears  are  good 
wild-bee  hunters.  They  highly  prize  wild  honey, 
and  when  they  find  a  bee  tree  quickly  tear  it  apart. 
With  paws  and  face  daubed  with  the  gluey  golden 
liquid,  and  besieged  by  thousands  of  angry  buzz- 
ing bees,  Bruin  enjoys  his  stolen  fruit.  Grunting 
with  satisfaction,  he  champs  his  jaws,  stopping  now 
and  then  to  sneeze,  and  with  his  sticky  paws  to 
wipe  away  the  swarm  of  infuriated  insects  that  are 
crawling  over  his  face  and  eyes.  His  fur  is  so  thick 
and  heavy  that  his  enemies  seldom  find  a  vulner- 
able point  of  attack. 

But  our  Bruno  had  no  enemy  to  fight  when  he 
ate  his  honey,  of  which  there  was  a  good  stock  in 
Gordon's  camp.  Oh,  no,  the  pampered  pet  — 
honey  was  fed  to  him  in  an  iron  spoon.  His  beady 
black  eyes  rolled  around  in  ecstasy,  while  his  round 
woolly  sides  twitched  with  pleasure  and  excite- 
ment, as,  smacking  his  lips,  he  wound  his  long  pink 
tongue  round  the  honey-covered  spoon. 

We  had  brought  in  with  us  some  fruit  and  candy 
for  the  children.  While  they  were  receiving  these 
little  gifts  with  shouts  of  delight,  we  heard  a  curi- 
ous scratching  noise  under  the  table  —  and  there 
was  Bruno  in  the  middle  of  our  suit-case,  over- 
hauling the  contents  with  his  mischievous  paws. 
Collars  and  socks,  neckties  and  hair-brushes,  were 
scattered  hither  and  yon,  as  in  frantic  haste  he 


46  WILD  BROTHER 

searched  for  his  stick  of  candy.  He  did  not  in- 
tend to  be  left  out  of  the  family  reckoning ! 

Bruno  was  allowed  to  go  wherever  he  pleased, 
but  he  seldom  went  out  of  sight  of  his  foster- 
mother  or  the  children.  Always  he  wanted  to  be 
near  Mrs.  Weldon.  Like  a  dog,  he  would  follow 
her  about  wherever  she  went ;  but  he  did  not  care 
for  the  big  woods,  and  seemed  nervous  and  timid 
when  alone  in  the  forest.  One  day  Mrs.  Weldon 
went  out  to  gather  some  spring  flowers.  On  tip- 
toe, silently  she  left  the  cabin,  for  the  cub  was 
sound  asleep  in  his  box  by  the  stove ;  she  was  going 
quite  a  distance  and  she  did  not  wish  him  to  follow 
her.  Taking  her  way  along  one  of  the  logging 
roads  that  zigzagged  back  and  forth  up  the  slope 
of  a  hardwood  ridge,  she  stopped  now  and  then  to 
gather  a  bunch  of  painted  trillium,  or  to  look  under- 
neath the  fallen  leaves  for  the  fragrant  pink  blos- 
soms of  the  trailing  arbutus,  which  in  deeply 
shaded  spots  was  still  in  bloom. 

Near  the  top  of  the  ridge  she  paused  to  rest  and, 
sitting  on  a  mossy  log,  she  listened  with  great  de- 
light to  the  chanting  song  of  a  hermit  thrush  that 
came  up  from  the  rill  down  below.  On  a  treetop 
high  above  her  head  a  white-throated  sparrow  now 
softly  called  in  silvery  tones  for  his  lifelong  friend, 
Sam  Peabody,  Peabody,  Peabody.  Silently  she 
listened  to  the  joyous  music. 


MAY-TIME  IN  THE  FOREST         47 

But  now  there  came  a  discord  in  the  forest  sym- 
phony. The  whining  tone  of  some  small  animal  in 
trouble  broke  in  upon  the  harmony  of  the  woodland 
orchestra.  From  down  below  came  a  rustle  of  dried 
leaves  and  the  sound  of  pattering  feet  drawing 
nearer. 

Mrs.  Weldon  rose  and,  looking  down  the  hill, 
saw  her  Bruno  trudging  up  the  trail.  With  his 
nose  close  to  the  ground,  panting  and  crying  in 
distress,  he  was  wandering  back  and  forth,  fol- 
lowing her  footsteps.  When  at  last  he  came  upon 
her,  he  wriggled  and  wobbled  in  a  frenzy  of  joy. 
Back  and  forth  for  more  than  half  a  mile  he  had 
scented  and  followed  her  track. 

Several  times  later  the  cub  followed  her  into  the 
woods  in  the  same  way.  On  one  occasion,  she  went 
a  long  distance  from  the  camp,  to  gather  fiddle- 
head  ferns,  the  tender  fronds  of  which,  just  as  they 
are  uncurling,  make  delicious  greens  for  the  dinner- 
table.  When  she  returned,  after  several  hours, 
Bruno  was  missing  and  could  not  be  found.  The 
lumbermen  stopped  their  work  to  hunt  for  him. 
They  scoured  the  woods  in  every  direction;  and 
at  last  they  heard  his  whimpering,  and  presently 
saw  him  coming. 

Standing  aside  quietly,  they  watched  him.  He 
was  visiting  every  spot  where  Mrs.  Weldon  had 
picked  the  ferns.  They  called  to  him.  He  paid  no 


48  WILD  BROTHER 

attention  to  them,  but  kept  on  searching  for  his 
friend.  Keeping  in  the  background,  they  trailed 
on  behind,  until,  following  Mrs.  Weldon's  foot- 
prints, Bruno  took  them  back  to  the  camp. 

Mrs.  Underwood  and  I  spent  two  weeks  near  the 
stream  where  the  river-drivers  were  working.  Each 
day  with  my  camera  I  walked  along  the  banks, 
taking  pictures  and  watching  the  men  at  their  ex- 
citing work.  Most  of  Gordon's  crew  were  on  the 
drive,  and  they  took  great  interest  in  what  I  was 
doing.  They  seemed  to  consider  it  as  a  great  honor 
that  Comrade  had  come  back  into  the  woods  to 
watch  them. 

The  life  of  a  river-driver  is  hard :  his  days  are 
long,  and  the  work  is  rough  and  dangerous.  The 
water  is  icy  cold.  The  snow  still  lingers  in  the 
woods,  and  the  drive  begins  on  the  day  when  the 
ice  leaves  the  lakes.  On  our  stream  the  men  were 
most  accommodating :'  they  did  everything  they 
could  for  me  so  that  my  pictures  should  be  suc- 
cessful. Where  the  stream  was  narrow,  they  felled 
trees  across  to  make  bridges,  so  that  Mrs.  Under- 
wood and  I  could  pass  from  one  bank  to  another. 
All  kinds  of  stunts  were  done  for  our  benefit. 
They  had  burling  contests,  in  which  two  men 
stood  on  a  single  log,  each  trying  to  roll  the  other 
off.  The  man  who  fell  had  to  swim.  Wet  clothes 
were  of  no  moment  to  those  husky  chaps.  That 


MAY-TIME  IN  THE  FOREST         49 

was  an  everyday  condition.  Any  man  who 
changed  his  clothes  because  they  were  wet  would 
be  laughed  out  of  camp.  Poised  on  a  single  log 
and  balancing  themselves  with  pick-poles  or  cant- 
dogs,  they  ran  down  through  the  whirling  current, 
stamping  their  feet  up  and  down  as  if  dancing  a 
jig,  as  the  stick  rolled  beneath  them. 

The  spring  of  1903  was  hard  for  the  lumber 
industry.  No  rains  came  to  keep  the  lakes  at 
high  level,  and  day  by  day  the  water  dropped. 
Half-way  between  the  upper  and  the  lower  lakes 
the  stream  ran  for  a  short  distance  over  a  wide 
rocky  ledge.  In  the  space  of  fifty  yards  it  dropped 
some  ten  feet,  and  over  this  pitch  the  water  was 
spread  very  thin.  At  this  point  the  logs  were  con- 
tinually hanging.  Whenever  a  stick  began  to  slow 
up,  or  twist  about  so  that  its  end  might  be  forced 
out  on  the  bank,  two  or  three  men  rushed  into 
the  rapid  water  and  made  the  white  spray  fly, 
while  with  their  cant-dogs  they  pried  the  log  out 
into  the  centre  of  the  stream.  In  spite  of  all  they 
could  do,  the  timber  sometimes  jammed  on  this 
ledge,  and  then  from  bank  to  bank  the  logs  lay  in  a 
tangled  mass  like  huge  jackstraws. 

Here  was  danger ;  but  without  a  moment's  hesi- 
tation the  nimble-footed  rivermen  ran  out  upon 
the  interwoven  timber,  and  with  poles  and  peavies 
tugged  and  heaved  until  the  strain  was  lessened, 


$o  WILD  BROTHER 

and  under  the  weight  of  water  that  for  the  time 
being  was  backed  up  behind  the  jam,  the  whole 
mass  trembled,  then  slowly  started  down-river. 
Now  the  men  turned  toward  the  bank,  for  the  jam 
was  gaining  speed.  The  logs  seemed  to  be  alive; 
they  twisted  and  shook  themselves,  and  as  they 
struck  the  rocks,  the  air  resounded  with  the  reso- 
nant voice  of  the  booming  timber.  Like  squirrels, 
the  men  jumped  from  one  stick  to  another  and 
gained  the  shore. 

Some  of  these  fellows  are  so  adept  that  they  are 
called  "bubble  walkers";  it  is  said  of  them  that, 
if  no  logs  offer  a  footing,  they  can  come  ashore  on 
the  bubbles.  But  in  spite  of  their  supple  bodies 
and  their  nimble  feet,  the  drive  each  spring  claims 
its  victims  from  among  them.  One  afternoon 
there  came  into  our  camp  a  silent  group  of  men  on 
their  way  out  to  the  village.  They  bore  in  their 
midst  a  litter,  and  on  it  lay,  under  a  sheet  of  can- 
vas, a  river-driver,  a  young  Indian.  That  morn- 
ing he  had  been  working  with  several  other  drivers 
at  a  jam  on  a  distant  stream.  When  it  broke, 
everyone  leaped  for  the  bank.  Suddenly  the  end 
of  a  stick  thrust  itself  up  from  the  water  in  front 
of  the  Indian.  He  tripped  over  it  and  fell  into  the 
grinding  mass.  Two  logs  came  together,  and  he 
was  between  them.  Others  piled  on  top.  It  was 
all  over  in  a  moment.  And  now  the  men  were 


MAY-TIME  IN  THE  FOREST         51 

taking  his  body  to  his  home  down-river. 

Sometimes,  when  the  wind  blew  strongly  from 
the  south  and  held  the  logs  in  a  compact  mass, 
blocking  the  mouth  of  the  stream  in  the  lower  lake, 
all  sluicing  would  have  to  be  suspended.  Then  the 
men  would  busy  themselves  clearing  convenient 
vantage-points  from  which  I  could  take  my  photo- 
graphs. To  Comrade  they  brought  in  bunches  of 
delicate  Mayflowers,  and  the  sweet  odor  of  the 
arbutus  made  fragrant  the  air  of  our  camp. 

On  Sundays,  or  when  the  work  was  slack,  some 
of  the  crew  often  went  over  to  Gordon's  camp, 
four  miles  through  the  woods,  to  see  the  bear  and 
to  watch  his  antics.  Mrs.  Weldon  never  allowed 
them  to  plague  Bruno.  In  fact,  she  had  made  a 
hard-and-fast  rule  that  no  one  except  the  members 
of  the  family  should  lay  their  hands  on  the  cub ; 
and  this  law  the  men  respected. 

Bruno  had  one  little  act  that  always  pleased  his 
audience.  The  children  called  it  "rolypoly." 
Close  beside  the  camp  ran  a  rippling  forest  brook. 
Ten  feet  above  the  water,  at  the  top  of  the  sloping 
mossy  bank,  stood  the  log  cabins.  Here  in  the 
afternoon  sun,  under  the  shelter  of  the  buildings, 
the  cub  often  came  out  to  exercise  and  play.  This 
particular  attraction  began  with  a  short  but  rapid 
whirling  dance.  Shaking  his  head  from  side  to  side 
and  sticking  his  upper  lip  out  beyond  the  end  of 


52  WILD  BROTHER 

his  nose,  in  an  absurdly  grotesque  manner,  he  be- 
gan, as  if  on  a  pivot,  to  turn  round  and  round  like 
a  kitten  when  chasing  its  tail. 

After  this  exercise  had  continued  for  a  minute 
or  two,  he  would  stop  suddenly  and,  wagging  his 
head  up  and  down,  would  rush  straight  ahead  for 
a  few  yards.  Then  again  he  would  pause,  wheel 
about,  and  run  like  mad  in  the  opposite  direction. 
These  capers  he  repeated  several  times ;  then  sud- 
denly he  would  pick  up  a  small  stick  or  a  chip  of 
wood,  and,  holding  it  in  his  mouth,  would  curl 
himself  into  a  round  brown  ball  and  roll  head  over 
heels  down  the  mossy  incline,  sometimes  not  stop- 
ping till  he  bounced  with  a  splash  into  the  cold 
water  of  the  brook.  This  climax  to  his  act  always 
brought  great  applause  from  the  lumbermen,  who 
swore  that  Bruno  was  surely  going  to  be  a  river- 
driver  of  great  merit. 

Before  our  outing  was  over,  we  called  once  more 
at  Bruno's  home,  and  again  I  tried  to  buy  the  little 
bear;  but  as  before  Mrs.  Weldon  would  not  con- 
sider parting  with  him. 

"If  he  becomes  cross  or  rough  when  he  grows 
larger,  and  Ursula  should  be  in  danger,  I  will  let 
you  know,"  she  said ;  "  and  then,  if  you  want  to  buy 
him,  I  will  give  him  up," 


CHAPTER  IV 
THE  BEAR  MAKES  A  JOURNEY 

EARLY  in  June  there  came  a  letter  from  the 
woods.  Bruno  was  growing  fast,  and,  though  he  was 
not  cross,  he  was  big  and  strong,  and  in  his  play 
had  developed  a  roughness  that  threatened  harm 
to  Ursula.  A  day  or  two  before,  while  he  was  play- 
ing with  his  foster-sister,  he  had  jumped  upon  her 
as  she  sat  on  the  floor,  and  knocked  her  over  and 
bumped  her  head.  They  expected  to  leave  camp 
in  a  few  days ;  and  when  I  came  down  again,  Mrs. 
Weldon  would  sell  him  to  me,  provided  I  would  pay 
her  enough  to  buy  a  cow. 

If  ever  a  person  deserved  a  cow,  Mrs.  Weldon 
did,  and  I  wrote  to  tell  her  that  she  should  have 
one. 

A  week  later  Mrs.  Underwood  and  I  arrived  at 
the  village,  and  were  much  disappointed  to  learn 
that  the  Weldons  had  not  yet  come  out  of  the 
woods.  The  townspeople  expressed  considerable 
anxiety  about  them.  Forest-fires  were  raging  all 
through  New  England,  and  for  weeks  the  sun  had 
hung  a  red  ball  of  fire  in  a  smoky  sky.  No  spring 
rains  had  come  to  refresh  the  thirsty  earth ;  for  fifty 
days  not  a  drop  of  water  had  fallen.  Just  before 
our  arrival,  a  little  settlement  twenty-five  miles  to 


54  WILD  BROTHER 

the  north  of  Gordon's  camp  had  been  burned  out. 
We  were  advised  to  keep  away  from  this  section 
until  the  drought  was  broken  ;  but  I  could  not  think 
of  going  back  without  the  bear  —  and  so  we  de- 
cided to  make  one  more  trip  in  to  the  lumber- 
camp. 

On  this  calm  June  morning  not  a  leaf  was  stirr- 
ing in  the  tree-tops.  If  there  had  been  any  breeze, 
it  would  have  been  unwise  to  start.  The  roads 
were  now  dried  out,  and  we  could  take  the  regular 
highway  to  a  point  within  four  miles  of  the  camp. 
To  be  sure,  this  was  considerably  longer  than  the 
winter  trail,  but  we  could  cover  the  distance  in 
much  less  time  and  with  far  greater  comfort. 

With  a  fine  pair  of  horses  hitched  to  a  rough 
lumber  wagon,  we  rattled  over  the  ground  at  a  good 
rate  of  speed.  A  little  before  noon  we  left  the  regu- 
lar road  and  drew  into  the  woods,  where  the  smoke 
was  thick  and  its  pungent  odor  more  oppressive. 
No  city  teamster  would  have  thought  it  possible  to 
move  a  wagon  over  that  rough  logging  trail,  but 
our  backwoods  horses  knew  their  business,  and 
they  jerked  along  over  rocks  and  down  into  gullies 
at  a  brisk  walk.  Only  by  great  care  were  we  able 
to  stay  in  the  wagon.  Finally  I  gave  up ;  it  was 
much  easier  and  more  comfortable  to  walk.  Com- 
rade, however,  stuck  to  the  wagon.  With  a  broad 
strap  we  tied  her  in,  and  for  the  balance  of  the 


THE  BEAR  MAKES  A  JOURNEY      55 

journey  she  got  more  exercise  than  I  did.  Oc- 
casionally we  paused  to  rest  the  horses.  All  along 
the  way  we  now  began  to  see  on  the  ground  bits 
of  charred  and  blackened  leaves,  which,  on  pre- 
vious days,  had  been  carried  on  the  dry  air  from  the 
burning  forest  to  the  north  of  us. 

About  one  o'clock,  while  I  was  walking  ahead, 
I  came  into  a  clearing  where  a  log  cabin  stood.  In 
the  smoky  atmosphere  it  did  not  look  like  Gordon's 
camp.  I  rubbed  my  eyes  and  looked  again.  Yes, 
this  was  the  place  all  right ;  we  had  approached  it 
from  a  different  direction,  and  there  was  Bruno 
climbing  a  tree  near  the  cabin.  The  children,  who 
were  sitting  in  the  doorway,  sprang  up  and  gave  us 
a  happy  welcome.  The  family  seemed  not  at  all 
alarmed  about  the  forest  fires,  though  the  smoke 
was  now  so  thick  that  the  tree-tops  only  a  short 
distance  away  could  hardly  be  seen  through  the 
murky  air. 

In  case  the  conflagration  should  sweep  their  way, 
the  Weldons  were  prepared.  A  short  distance  be- 
hind the  cabin,  in  the  side  of  the  bank,  they  had 
dug  a  pit  ten  feet  deep  and  ten  feet  square.  Over 
its  top  were  sapling  trees  and  spruce  boughs,  and 
over  these  dirt  and  sods.  Into  the  brook,  just 
below  the  spot  where  they  had  dug  the  under- 
ground room,  they  had  thrown  a  quantity  of  earth, 
which  had  formed  a  dam  and  backed  the  water 


56  WILD  BROTHER 

close  to  the  door  of  the  cave.  If  the  fire  should 
come,  it  would  take  them  only  a  few  minutes,  they 
said,  to  stock  and  provision  their  place  of  refuge. 
To  be  sure,  the  log  cabin  would  go,  but  they  would 
be  safe;  in  a  few  hours  the  fire  would  spend  itself 
and  pass  on. 

It  seemed  foolhardy  for  anyone  to  take  such 
chances,  but  there  was  money  to  be  made  by  the 
cutting  and  getting  out  of  cedar  trees.  A  good  stand 
of  this  timber  grew  close  by,  and  cedar  is  valuable 
for  railroad  ties  and  telegraph  poles.  Only  three 
men  were  now  at  the  camp.  The  rest  of  the  crew 
had  left  when  the  river-driving  was  over. 

Bruno  was  an  active  member  of  the  Weldon  fam- 
ily. He  could  climb  like  a  squirrel,  and  if  the  tree 
were  hollow,  he  liked  to  crawl  inside  and  from  a  hole 
watch  his  comrades  at  their  games,  as  if  he  were 
playing  hide  and  seek  with  them.  Another  one  of 
his  favorite  pastimes  was  trying  to  help  when  the 
cook  was  splitting  kindling  wood,  though  Mr. 
Weldon  considered  him  more  of  a  hindrance  than 
a  help,  for  Bruno  would  rush  in  from  behind  and 
try  to  pull  away  a  piece  of  wood  that  was  being 
split,  and  sometimes  was  in  great  danger  of  losing 
his  paws,  for  the  axe  was  sharp.  He  loved  to  pick 
up  the  small  pieces  as  they  fell  from  the  chopping- 
block.  Holding  them  in  his  mouth,  he  would 
prance  about  like  a  puppy,  chasing  up  and  down 


Bruno  and  his  oldest  sister  on  the  day  he  left  he 


The  cub  liked  to  crawl  inside  and  watch  the  children 
as  if  he  were  playing  hide  and  seek 


THE  BEAR  MAKES  A  JOURNEY       57 

over  the  woodpile  and  scattering  the  kindling  all 
about. 

As  he  had  increased  in  size  and  strength,  Mrs. 
Weldon  felt  a  little  anxious  about  letting  him  sleep 
with  Ursula,  unless  she  were  close  at  hand  to  watch 
them.  In  order  to  keep  him  away  from  the  cradle, 
they  had  put  a  lattice-gate  in  the  doorway  between 
the  kitchen  and  the  bedroom.  This  did  not  keep 
Bruno  out,  however,  for  he  soon  learned  to  climb 
over  it.  Pulling  himself  up  hand  over  hand  like  a 
monkey,  he  would  gain  the  top,  then,  huddled  into 
a  furry  bundle,  he  would  drop  awkwardly,  often 
bottom-side-up,  to  the  floor.  Whining  as  he  un- 
curled himself,  he  would  waddle  across  the  room, 
his  long  little  toe-nails  clicking  as  he  ran,  and 
jumping  into  the  cradle,  would  soon  be  sound 
asleep,  nestled  close  to  the  baby. 

From  what  Mrs.  Weldon  had  written  me,  I  had 
expected  that  Bruno  would  be  much  larger  than  I 
now  found  him.  He  was  nearly  five  months  old, 
yet  he  weighed  only  eleven  and  a  half  pounds. 
From  her  letters  I  had  inferred  that  he  would 
be  fully  twice  his  present  size.  On  the  lumber 
wagon  I  had  brought  a  large  dry-goods  box  about 
the  size  of  a  piano  case.  I  had  also  bought  a  collar 
for  the  cub  —  one  that  would  be  about  right  for 
an  ordinary  setter  dog.  Both  these  articles  were 
misfits.  The  collar  was  so  large  that  Bruno  could 


58  WILD  BROTHER 

walk  right  through  it  without  any  trouble,  while  a 
soap-box  would  have  furnished  him  with  much 
more  comfortable  quarters  than  my  packing-case. 

Soon  after  our  arrival  a  brisk  wind  came  out  of 
the  north,  and  as  a  protracted  sojourn  in  the  under- 
ground fire  retreat  offered  no  attractions  to  us,  we 
made  haste  to  move  out.  Bruno  was  playing  in  the 
lap  of  his  oldest  sister.  They  were  having  a  great 
frolic ;  with  his  long  claws  the  cub  was  tickling  her, 
while  he  stood  on  his  hind-legs  and  tried  to  kiss  her 
on  the  chin.  The  little  girl's  happy  laugh  quickly 
changed  to  a  bitter  cry  of  disappointment  when 
Bruno  was  taken  from  her,  and  she  learned  that 
she  would  lose  her  playmate  and  never  see  him 
again.  It  was  a  sad  occasion  for  all  that  happy 
family,  and  Mrs.  Weldon  was  even  more  distressed 
than  the  others.  She  told  me  that,  under  similar 
circumstances,  she  would  gladly  adopt  another 
bear. 

All  the  children  were  sobbing.  The  bear  was  the 
only  happy  member  of  the  group.  He,  lucky 
creature,  did  not  know  that  he  was  to  be  taken 
away,  though  a  few  minutes  before  the  time  of 
parting  he  had  unconsciously  kissed  Sister  Ursula 
good-bye.  Ursula  had  been  sitting  on  the  oilcloth 
table-top,  watching  her  brothers  and  sisters,  who 
were  crying  at  the  thought  of  the  coming  separa- 
tion —  and  herself  feeling  a  little  sad  in  sympathy. 


Bruno  bids  good-bye  to  Ursula 


THE  BEAR  MAKES  A  JOURNEY       59 

Bruno  crept  up  to  her,  and  affectionately  putting 
his  forepaws  up  on  her  shoulder,  placed  his  soft 
little  muzzle  against  her  cheek,  making,  as  he  did 
so,  a  curious  pathetic  murmuring  sound,  as  if  to 
comfort  his  sister  in  her  hour  of  trouble. 

Good-byes  were  said,  and  the  cub  was  put  in 
the  packing-case.  The  cook,  with  a  solemn  face, 
came  out  to  take  a  farewell  look  at  him.  Mrs. 
Weldon,  too,  came  forward  from  the  door,  but  she 
never  reached  the  wagon.  With  tears  in  her  eyes, 
she  turned  about  and  disappeared  within  the 
cabin. 

Comrade  and  I  felt  like  kidnapers  as  we  drove 
out  of  the  clearing  into  the  rough  lumber  road,  but 
our  attention  was  quickly  called  to  other  matters, 
for  serious  trouble  immediately  developed  in  the 
packing-case.  Bruno  had  never  been  shut  up  in 
this  way  before,  and  he  did  not  intend  to  submit  to 
his  imprisonment  without  a  vigorous  protest. 
Right  away  he  began  to  howl  and  rush  about.  Our 
wagon  jounced  into  a  hole,  and  the  cub  rolled  over 
and  over  into  a  corner  of  the  box.  Immediately  he 
lost  his  temper  and  commenced  to  growl  and  snarl^ 
making  a  guttural  noise  for  all  the  world  like  a 
drunken  sailor  cursing  the  universe.  One  of  our 
wheels  bumped  over  a  rock,  and  Bruno  shot  like  a 
rocket  to  the  other  end  of  his  cage.  Wild  with  rage, 
he  began  to  bite  his  paw.  This  particular  paw  gave 


60  WILD  BROTHER 

him  no  immediate  relief  and,  still  mumbling  and 
cursing,  he  bit  all  his  paws  one  after  another. 
There  seemed  to  be  nothing  that  we  could  do  to 
relieve  the  situation.  We  knew  that  it  would 
hardly  be  safe  to  take  him  out  of  the  box  in  his 
present  frame  of  mind  and  carry  him  in  our  laps, 
so  we  jounced  along,  the  air  filled  with  smoke  and 
general  distress. 

Before  we  reached  the  smoother  road  on  the 
main  highway,  Bruno  grew  a  little  weary ;  and  as 
we  stopped  for  a  few  minutes  to  rest  the  horses,  I 
gathered  some  ferns  and  dry  moss  and  endeavored 
to  make  a  bed  for  him.  He  accepted  it  in  the  spirit 
in  which  it  was  given,  and  a  little  later,  after  we  had 
bounced  out  of  the  wood  road,  he  made  the  best  of 
a  bad  bargain.  Though  still  murmuring  and  plain- 
tively complaining,  he  curled  up  in  a  corner  and 
went  to  sleep. 

From  Gordon's  camp  in  Aroostook  County  to 
my  camp  is  about  fifty  miles,  and  late  that  after- 
noon we  put  up  at  a  small  country  hotel.  In  the 
stable  was  an  unoccupied  box-stall.  Into  it  I  put 
some  hay  —  and  Bruno  was  furnished  with  a  grand 
apartment  for  the  night. 

It  was  astonishing  how  quickly  the  news  of  the 
bear's  arrival  was  passed  about.  Long  before  dark 
that  evening  a  crowd  of  men  and  boys,  and  not  a 
few  women,  were  besieging  the  box-stall.  The 


THE  BEAR  MAKES  A  JOURNEY      61 

stable-keeper,  a  loquacious  individual,  was  in  his 
element :  at  regular  intervals  he  retailed  the  story 
of  the  bear's  upbringing,  and  between  times  he 
suggested  to  me  that  an  admittance  fee  ought  to 
be  charged  —  in  that  way  I  could  get  enough  cash 
to  pay  for  our  board  and  lodging ! 

I  was  a  little  worried  about  Bruno's  food.  Mrs. 
Weldon  had  warned  me  that  he  was  particular 
about  his  meals.  It  seemed  that,  since  he  had  been 
weaned,  he  had  always  fed  from  a  little  wooden 
trough  that  they  had  hollowed  out  from  a  small 
tree.  He  was  insistent  about  this.  He  wanted 
everything  primitive  and  simple.  Cups,  saucers, 
or  bowls  he  refused  to  countenance.  Knowing  his 
peculiarities  on  this  subject,  I  had  brought  some 
condensed  milk  and  the  trough  along  with  me. 
Diluting  the  milk  with  warm  water  and  adding 
some  bread,  I  now  offered  Bruno  his  supper. 

We  had  a  large  guest-list  at  the  banquet.  A  solid 
row  of  heads  and  shoulders  lined  the  top  of  the  en- 
closure. Suddenly  a  shout  of  surprise  and  delight 
arose  from  the  audience.  Gingerly  the  bear  had 
sidled  up  to  the  trough.  He  seemed  suspicious 
about  something.  He  put  his  nose  down  and  gave  a 
sniff.  Then,  "Whoof"  he  said,  and  up  went  his 
paw  and  slam^rattlety-Jfang^QV&f  and  over,  went  the 
trough,  and  away  went  the  milk  over  the  floor.  The 
crowd  laughed,  yelled  with  joy,  and  made  remarks. 


62  WILD  BROTHER 

"He  don't  want  any  plain  grub  like  that,  mister. 
Give  him  an  oyster  stew !" 

"Say,  boss,  what  he  needs  is  beefsteak  and 
onions,  with  French  fried  potatoes  on  the  side. 
He  ain't  any  ordinary  no-count  bear.  I  kin  tell  by 
his  shape.  He's  a  high  liver.  Say,  I  bet  yer,  he'd 
tackle  a  mince  pie  real  strong." 

Meanwhile  Bruno  had  gone  into  a  tantrum.  Off 
in  the  corner  he  was  growling  and  grumbling  and 
biting  his  paw.  I  was  embarrassed  and  humiliated, 
and  much  perplexed  to  know  what  to  do. 

The  spectators  seemed  rather  to  enjoy  my  dis- 
comfort. Luckily  I  had  a  number  of  cans  of  milk 
with  me,  and  after  the  cub's  rage  had  subsided 
somewhat,  I  prepared  another  supper  and  filled  the 
trough  again,  this  time  using  less  water  and  adding 
much  more  of  the  sweetened  milk.  I  then  placed 
the  food  in  the  centre  of  the  stall,  stepped  back  to 
avoid  another  milk-shower,  and  awaited  results. 

A  hush  of  expectancy  came  over  the  crowd.  I 
could  hear  the  hens  fussing  about  in  the  yard. 
Barn  swallows  were  flying  in  and  out  through  the 
big  open  door,  twittering  and  calling  to  one  an- 
other, as  if  a  little  perplexed  at  this  unusual  gather- 
ing in  their  sanctuary.  Again  the  cub,  with  much 
caution,  stealthily  approached  his  supper.  His  eyes 
rolled  about  and  his  upper  lip  protruded  and 
wagged  from  side  to  side  in  a  curious  and  gro- 


THE  BEAR  MAKES  A  JOURNEY      6.3 

tesque  way.  There  surely  would  be  serious  trouble 
this  time  if  everything  was  not  all  right. 

"Look  out,  mister !"  yelled  one  of  the  onlookers. 
"Git  out  yer  umbrella;  it's  clouding  up.  There's 
going  to  be  another  shower." 

But  as  Bruno  sniffed  again  at  the  mixture,  a 
tranquil  expression  came  over  his  countenance. 
Another  smell,  and  into  the  trough  went  his  right 
paw.  Was  he  going  to  upset  it  ?  No,  down  went 
his  nose,  up  to  his  eyes  in  the  milk.  With  his  lips 
pressed  tightly  against  his  paw,  he  began  to  feed, 
making  a  curious  sucking  humming  noise,  like  the 
drone  of  a  small  electric  motor.  The  concoction 
seemed  to  please  him. 

"Say,  he's  a  regular  suction-pump  now  he's 
got  a  goin',"  volunteered  one  of  the  spectators. 
"Watch  him  swell  up,  will  yer." 

"Stan'  back,  stan'  back!"  warned  a  little  old 
man  with  a  gray  whisker-tuft  on  the  point  of  his 
chin. 

" Shut  yer  noise,"  laughed  the  hostler.  "He  ain't 
goin'  to  bust.  There's  no  danger,  ladies.  He's  just 
takin'  a  rest." 

Suddenly  Bruno  pulled  his  head  out,  licked  his 
chops  for  a  moment,  then  wheeled  rapidly  round 
to  the  other  end  of  the  trough,  and  again  sucking 
his  right  paw  with  the  same  musical  purring  ac- 
companiment, finished  his  supper. 


64  WILD  BROTHER 

"Show's  over  fer  the  night,"  announced  the 
hostler.  "Next  performance  will  be  at  seven- 
thirty  to-morrer  mornin'.  Buy  your  tickets  now 
and  avoid  the  rush  !" 

The  next  day  we  continued  our  journey,  and 
about  noon  came  to  the  highlands  that  overlook 
the  valley  where  lie  the  Schoodic  Lakes,  which 
form  the  headwaters  of  the  St.  Croix  River. 
Stretching  south,  far  into  New  Brunswick,  lay  an 
unbroken  forest. 

Our  camp  stands  in  an  open  field  some  distance 
above  the  shore  of  one  of  the  smaller  lakes.  Quite 
near  it  are  a  farmhouse,  several  farm  buildings,  a 
club  house  and  a  number  of  small  camps.  All  were 
under  the  management  and  watchful  care  of  the 
farmer,  a  genial  gentleman  of  the  old  school,  called 
by  his  admiring  sportsmen  friends,  "  the  squire. " 
Visitors  at  all  the  camps  and  the  club  house  get 
their  meals  at  the  squire's. 

The  open  land  of  this  little  settlement  is  sur- 
rounded by  woods,  which  at  that  time  were  well 
peopled  with  the  usual  wood-folk  of  the  Maine  for- 
est. Deer  were  plentiful;  the  woods  were  full  of 
porcupines.  Foxes  and  raccoons  were  often  seen. 
Black  bears  frequently  came  into  the  clearing  and 
worried  the  sheep.  Mink  and  otter  frequented  the 
shores  of  lakes  and  brooks ;  and  often  in  the  sum- 
mer-time the  moose  came  in  to  feed  on  the  lily-pads 


THE  BEAR  MAKES  A  JOURNEY      65 

and  aquatic  roots  along  the  margins  of  the  dead- 
water  streams. 

Here  in  the  land  of  his  fathers  Bruno  was  to  live 
with  us  for  a  few  weeks,  and  become  accustomed 
somewhat  to  the  ways  of  city-folk  before  saying 
good-bye  to  his  forest  home.  Fortunately,  the  day 
after  our  arrival  there  came  a  change  in  the 
weather.  It  began  to  rain,  and  for  seven  days,  with 
only  an  occasional  let-up,  the  downpour  continued. 

We  felt  much  easier  now  about  the  Weldons. 
The  people  at  the  village  had  told  me  that  they 
really  were  in  great  danger  and  should  not  have 
been  allowed  to  stay  in  the  woods.  I  was  relieved 
in  a  few  days,  when  a  letter  came  from  the  lumber- 
camp.  They  had  had  a  narrow  escape  from  being 
burned  out  the  day  after  we  left.  All  that  day, 
while  burning  brands  and  bits  of  bark  continually 
fell  upon  the  roof  and  in  the  door-yard,  they  fought 
the  fire.  It  was  only  by  constant  vigilance  and  the 
utmost  exertion  that  they  kept  the  flames  in  check 
until  the  rain  came  in  the  night.  They  missed 
Bruno  very  much,  and  were  anxious  to  know  how 
he  was  getting  on  in  his  new  home. 

For  several  days  the  storm  kept  us  indoors.  This 
was  particularly  fortunate  for  the  bear,  for  it  gave 
him  a  chance  to  become  acquainted  with  us.  If,  as 
is  usually  our  custom  in  fine  weather,  we  had  gone 
forth  in  the  morning,  not  to  return  until  night,  the 


66  WILD  BROTHER 

cub  would  have  been  a  lonely  desolate  animal. 
As  matters  now  stood,  he  immediately  became  one 
of  the  family,  and  he  quickly  made  himself  quite 
at  home.  He  followed  us  everywhere  about  the 
camp,  but  seldom  went  outdoors  unless  we  ac- 
companied him.  If  it  ever  happened  that  he  was 
left  outside,  he  would  soon  appear  at  one  of  the 
lower  windows,  and  within  a  day  or  two  he  had 
torn  off  all  the  mosquito  netting  from  every 
opening. 

To  make  up  for  this  defect,  however,  he  did  his 
best  to  destroy  the  flies  which  he  had  let  in.  He 
was  one  of  the  best  little  fly-swatters  in  the  mod- 
ern campaign  to  keep  down  these  pests.  On  the 
inside  of  the  camp  he  made  frequent  visits  to  all 
the  windows,  killing  the  flies  and  eating  them  with 
great  relish. 

The  question  of  Bruno's  food  was  one  that  had 
caused  us  some  worry.  As  there  were  several  cows 
on  the  farm,  and  our  supply  of  condensed  milk  was 
becoming  greatly  reduced,  it  seemed  most  proper 
and  right  that  Bruno,  from  now  on,  should  be 
served  with  the  real  article  for  his  diet.  He  ate  his 
first  meal  with  much  zest.  I  had  prepared  it  most 
carefully,  sweetening  it  with  sugar  and  heating  it 
to  just  the  right  temperature.  Now  as  before  he 
viewed  the  repast  at  first  with  some  distrust.  But 
presently  his  right  front  paw  was  brought  into 


THE  BEAR  MAKES  A  JOURNEY      67 

service.  Again  he  whirled  from  one  end  of  the 
trough  to  the  other,  and  to  the  same  accompani- 
ment of  droning  music  the  milk  quickly  disap- 
peared. When  it  was  all  gone,  he  seized  the  side  of 
his  wooden  trough  with  his  teeth  and,  growling  and 
complaining,  shook  and  rattled  it  over  the  floor. 
He  seemed  still  to  be  hungry  and  I  served  him 
again,  though  where  he  could  manage  to  stow  away 
so  much  milk,  I  could  hardly  see.  Already  his 
chubby  body  had  taken  on  the  shape  of  a  full- 
blown football.  But  his  appetite  proved  to  be 
greater  than  his  capacity,  for  just  before  he  reached 
the  bursting  point,  with  the  milk  only  half  gone, 
he  had  had  enough. 

Presently  he  toddled  across  the  floor,  climbed 
heavily  into  my  lap,  and  went  to  sleep.  But  he 
was  n't  comfortable.  In  a  short  time  he  com- 
menced to  twitch.  Evidently  he  was  having  a  bad 
dream.  Perhaps  all  was  not  well  inside.  Soon  he 
moaned,  then  suddenly  he  woke  up,  looked  wildly 
around,  and  began  to  scream. 

Something  serious  was  happening.  He  kicked 
and  scratched,  and  I  put  him  on  the  floor.  He  sud- 
denly seemed  to  have  grown  larger,  and  to  have 
taken  on  the  shape  of  a  round  toy  balloon.  It  was 
colic,  and  he  was  wild  with  pain.  He  bit  first  one 
paw,  then  another,  and  finding  no  relief  in  this 
expedient,  he  made  a  grab  for  my  ankle,  just 


68  WILD  BROTHER 

missed  it,  and  set  his  teeth  in  the  bottom  of  my 
trouser-leg.  There  was  good  material  in  that  cloth, 
and,  though  he  shook  it  savagely,  it  held  firm. 
From  a  point  of  safety  in  the  background,  Mrs. 
Underwood  pulled  his  tail,  and  my  clothing  was 
saved. 

Right  here  we  learned  a  most  valuable  method 
of  diverting  Bruno's  mind  when  for  a  moment  an 
attack  of  brain-storm  chanced  to  be  upon  him. 
His  tail,  though  very  small  and  insignificant, 
seemed  to  be  the  most  sensitive  and  vulnerable 
point  of  his  anatomy.  If  he  were  in  mischief,  touch 
his  tail  and  immediately  he  was  on  his  good  be- 
havior. If  he  were  asleep,  touch  his  tail  —  he  was 
wide-awake  and  in  action  in  a  second.  In  fact, 
this  posterior  appendage  seemed  to  serve  him  as 
an  electric  bell  or  signal,  which  had  connections 
with  all  his  various  activities.  Whenever  it  was 
touched,  it  called  for  immediate  action.  You 
pressed  the  button  and  he  did  the  rest. 

Since  we  had  no  medicine  for  colic  in  camp, 
nature  had  to  take  its  course.  Gradually  the  pain 
wore  off,  and  Bruno  was  himself  again.  One  experi- 
ment with  cow's  milk  was  enough,  and  I  sent  at 
once  to  the  railroad  and  telegraphed  to  Boston 
for  a  case  of  condensed  milk. 

The  bear  was  a  born  investigator.  He  wanted 
to  know  the  why  and  wherefore  of  everything.  He 


The  cub  looks  out  on  the  wide,  wide  world 


THE  BEAR  MAKES  A  JOURNEY       69 

was  like  a  monkey ;  he  could  pull  out  a  drawer,  and 
open  a  door  if  it  were  unlatched.  Standing  up  on 
his  hind-legs,  he  would  whine  and  smell  at  the 
crack  of  the  food-room  door,  and,  unless  it  was 
latched,  his  long  prying  claws  could  open  it  quite 
easily.  Nothing  within  his  reach  was  safe. 

When  there  was  no  fire  burning,  he  liked  to 
climb  into  the  fireplace  and  up  one  of  the  andirons 
to  the  black  iron  pot  that  hung  on  the  crane.  With 
one  paw  he  would  tilt  it  over,  and  stick  in  his  head, 
to  see  if  by  chance  any  food  had  been  left  there 
that  might  be  to  his  liking.  Sometimes  in  the  even- 
ing, as  I  sat  by  the  fire  reading,  the  bear  would  shin 
up  the  back  of  my  chair,  climb  to  my  shoulder,  and 
slap  the  book  from  my  hand ;  then,  if  he  felt  drowsy, 
he  would  climb  down,  curl  up  in  my  lap,  and  drop 
off  to  sleep. 

We  let  him  run  about  the  camp  pretty  much 
wherever  he  wished.  One  place,  however,  he  was 
supposed  not  to  enter  —  the  sleeping-room.  But 
whenever  he  was  missing,  we  could  be  almost  sure 
of  finding  him  there.  One  day  from  this  forbidden 
room  there  came  a  dismal  howl  of  pain.  I  ran  to 
the  door,  and  sure  enough  Bruno  was  in  serious 
trouble.  He  had  jumped  from  the  chair  to  one  of 
the  beds ;  then,  mounting  the  post,  he  had  climbed 
to  the  shelf  overhead.  On  this  shelf  I  had  left  some 
fishing-tackle — a  long  gut  leader,  with  three  fly- 


70  WILD  BROTHER 

hooks  attached.  One  of  these  flies,  a  red  ibis, 
claimed  the  bear's  attention  at  once.  He  was  inter- 
ested in  flies.  They  were  good  to  eat,  and  if  insig- 
nificant little  house-flies  and  blue-bottles  were  ap- 
petizing, this  great  glorious  scarlet  insect  should 
be  delicious.  Forthwith  he  snapped  up  the  ibis. 
It  caught  in  his  tongue,  and  he  fell  to  the  floor. 

As  I  looked  in,  a  wild  and  painful  sight  greeted 
my  eyes.  One  of  the  hooks  on  the  other  end  of  the 
leader  had  caught  in  a  crack  in  the  floor,  and  Bruno 
was  doing  a  circus  act.  Held  fast  by  the  strong 
gut  leader,  with  his  tongue  stretched  far  out  beyond 
his  nose,  he  swung  round  the  circle  in  mad  haste, 
howling  with  rage  and  pain.  What  to  do  I  did  n't 
know.  Angling  is  a  favorite  pastime  of  mine,  and 
in  the  pursuit  of  this  sport  I  have  hooked  many 
strange  fishes ;  but  here  was  a  catch  that  was  new ; 
I  had  never  had  a  bear  on  a  hook,  and  now  that  I 
had  one  on,  the  question  was  how  to  get  him  off ! 
It  would  certainly  be  a  dangerous  operation  to 
extract  that  fly  —  like  fooling  with  a  buzz-saw. 

If  we  could  only  quiet  him  a  bit  and  divert  his 
mind.  Comrade  suggested  that  I  begin  on  the  end 
farthest  removed  from  the  seat  of  trouble  —  that 
sensitive  point,  his  tail.  A  brilliant  idea;  but  it 
could  n't  be  carried  out.  Bruno  was  revolving  so 
fast  that  this  member  could  not  be  reached.  How 
could  we  check  his  wild  career  ?  Happy  thought : 


If  we  left  the  door  unlatched,  Bruno  had  no  difficulty  in  opening  it 


THE  BEAR  MAKES  A  JOURNEY      71 

the  landing  net !  If  he  wanted  to  play  fish,  he  must 
submit  to  the  rules  of  the  game  and  end  the 
struggle  in  a  net.  I  was  just  going  after  one,  when 
suddenly  my  fish  changed  his  tactics  and  began  to 
back  water  as  it  were.  His  tongue  stretched  out 
like  an  elastic  band,  until  it  seemed  to  be  just  at 
the  point  of  snapping  or  coming  out  by  the  roots 
—  and  then  the  hook  let  go  and  the  situation  was 
saved.  For  a  few  days  the  cub  had  a  sore  mouth, 
but  the  wound  soon  healed  and  bothered  him  no 
more. 

Bruno  seemed  to  have  an  interest  in  everything 
that  interested  me.  He  was  always  glad  to  be 
around  when  I  was  taking  photographs,  and  was 
especially  interested  in  the  red  rubber  bulb  on  the 
end  of  the  long  tube  that  worked  the  shutter  of  my 
large  camera.  It  was  soft  and  yielding,  and  he 
liked  to  bite  and  pull  upon  it.  If  in  his  play  the 
camera  fell  to  the  floor,  it  never  worried  him  in  the 
least ;  it  only  added  zest  to  the  sport.  To  keep  the 
bulb  out  of  his  reach,  I  wound  the  tubing  round 
the  lens,  and  thought  that  I  had  got  the  best  of 
him.  But  Bruno  was  not  to  be  so  easily  foiled ;  he 
soon  discovered  that  he  could  get  the  bulb  by 
climbing  up  one  of  the  legs  of  the  tripod. 

When  I  came  back  into  the  room  one  day,  I 
surprised  him  in  the  very  act  of  beginning  this 
performance.  He  had  been  walking  round  the  base 


72  WILD  BROTHER 

of  the  tripod,  looking  for  the  bulb,  and  had  just 
discovered  it  when  I  appeared.  With  another  cam- 
era focused  upon  him,  I  shouted  abruptly,  to  stop 
him ;  and  in  the  picture  that  I  took,  his  expression 
indicates  that  he  is  alert  for  any  emergency  —  to 
turn  and  run,  or  stand  and  dodge  a  boot  or  boot- 
jack or  anything  that  might  come  his  way. 

When  we  went  to  the  farmhouse  to  get  our 
meals,  Bruno  generally  followed  along  behind, 
although  he  usually  encountered  adversity  in  the 
form  of  a  brown  spaniel  that  lived  on  the  farm  and 
that  loved  to  plague  him.  The  pathway  was  lined 
by  a  row  of  hardwood  trees  planted  at  regular 
intervals.  From  behind  one  of  these  the  dog  would 
sometimes  rush  out,  and  the  cub,  yapping  and 
snorting  with  fright,  would  gallop  to  a  place  of 
safety  and,  like  a  cat,  shuffle  up  the  next  tree  in 
line.  After  this  trick  had  been  played  upon  him 
several  times,  Bruno  took  no  further  chances,  but 
climbed  each  tree  in  the  row  as  he  came  to  it. 
From  a  point  of  safety  some  ten  feet  above  the 
ground,  he  looked  for  his  enemy,  then  darted  on  to 
the  next  haven  when  the  coast  was  clear. 

While  we  were  in  the  dining-room  Bruno  spent 
most  of  his  time  playing  with  the  children  in  the 
kitchen  and  the  woodshed.  Here  occasionally  he 
fell  in  with  his  enemy  the  dog.  Brownie,  the  span- 
iel, had  no  desire  to  hurt  the  cub ;  he  wanted  only 


Caught  in  the  act  —  an  interrupted  climb  after  the  enticing  bulb 


THE  BEAR  MAKES  A  JOURNEY      73 

to  play  with  him  and  be  friends.  The  bear,  how- 
ever, sought  no  friendship  with  any  of  the  lower 
animals;  he  was  a  snob  in  this  respect,  and  held 
himself  quite  aloof  from  all  ordinary  creatures. 
Men  and  women  were  his  associates;  all  others 
were  as  dirt  beneath  his  feet.  Brownie  resented 
this  attitude  when  Bruno  was  in  the  kitchen ;  for 
this  was  his  domain,  and  he  would  brook  no  top- 
lofty mannerisms  from  any  unbidden  stranger. 
With  a  rush  and  a  menacing  growl,  he  would 
drive  the  bear  into  a  corner  or  behind  a  chair, 
where  Bruno,  standing  straight  up  on  his  hind-legs, 
with  his  fore-paws  swinging  freely  in  defense, 
would  hurl  defiance  at  his  adversary.  With  his 
chest  expanded  and  his  breath  coming  forth  in 
explosive  gusts  as  he  champed  his  frothy  lips,  he 
seemed  twice  his  natural  size  and  presented  to  his 
foe  an  aspect  most  forbidding. 

The  cub  and  the  spaniel  never  really  came  to 
blows,  however,  for  both,  like  schoolboys  at  play, 
were  usually  bluffing.  If  one  got  serious  and  meant 
business,  the  other  generally  backed  down.  Before 
our  outing  was  over  they  developed  a  better  under- 
standing of  each  other,  and,  though  they  never 
became  loving  friends,  they  called  a  truce  and 
ceased  all  annoying  practices. 

One  morning  while  we  were  at  breakfast,  and 
before  the  armistice  had  been  declared,  Brownie 


74  WILD  BROTHER 

had  hustled  Bruno  out  of  the  kitchen  into  the 
pantry  where,  behind  the  sugar-barrel,  he  held  his 
ground.  The  dog,  having  shown  his  authority  and 
satisfied  his  peace  of  mind,  retired  to  the  door-mat 
out  in  the  sun. 

Bruno  alone  in  the  closet,  all  danger  past,  began 
to  investigate.  To  his  keen  nostrils  the  air  was 
redolent  with  delectable  odors  of  food  —  sweet  and 
subtle  smells,  the  like  of  which  he  had  never 
dreamed  of  before :  spices  and  cookies,  doughnuts 
and  cake.  His  lips  quivered  and  his  mouth  wat- 
ered. The  overpowering  fragrance  that  filled  the 
little  room  was  fairly  intoxicating.  There  was  so 
much  to  choose  from !  Where  should  he  begin  ? 
Quite  near  at  hand  was  a  scent  that  was  old  and 
dear  to  him,  a  smell  that  took  him  back  to  his 
cabin  home  in  the  woods. 

In  a  moment  he  had  mounted  a  cracker-box,  and 
reaching  up  to  the  top  of  the  sugar-barrel,  he  looked 
within.  Never  before  had  he  beheld  so  glorious  a 
sight.  "Linked  sweetness  long  drawn  out."  A 
world  of  sugar,  and  this  world  was  his  !  Without  a 
moment's  hesitation  he  fell  headlong  into  the  snowy 
whiteness  down  below.  Here,  only  a  few  minutes 
later,  fortunately,  he  was  discovered.  His  speckled, 
frosted  face  and  paws  gave  mute  evidence  that  he 
had  enjoyed  to  the  utmost  his  hurried  banquet  in 
the  barrel. 


THE  BEAR  MAKES  A  JOURNEY      75 

One  morning  there  was  great  excitement  about 
the  camp.  During  the  night  there  had  been  a 
tragedy  on  the  farm :  a  relative  of  Bruno's  had 
come  down  from  the  mountain  into  the  pasture, 
killed  one  of  the  squire's  sheep,  and  gone  off  with 
the  carcass.  There  was  blood  and  wool  on  the 
ground  where  the  deed  had  been  done,  and  from 
this  spot  a  trail  of  down-trodden  grass  showed 
where  the  bear  had  dragged  his  victim  into  a 
thicket.  Here  the  earth  was  torn  and  trampled  and 
soaked  with  blood.  A  few  ribs  and  the  bones  of  the 
legs  lay  scattered  about,  and  near-by  we  found  the 
pelt  of  the  sheep  done  up  neatly  into  a  roll  with  the 
wool  side  out.  The  bear  had  skinned  the  sheep, 
quite  as  a  man  would  have  done,  before  he  carried 
off  the  meat.  He  must  have  been  disturbed  at  his 
work,  for  some  distance  away  in  his  flight  he  had 
dropped  and  left  in  his  tracks  a  good  hind-quarter 
of  mutton. 

Thinking  that  old  Bruin  would  come  back  in  the 
night  for  the  rest  of  his  plunder,  the  squire  set  a 
bear-trap  and  used  the  meat  for  bait.  But  the  bear 
was  too  wary  or  too  well  satisfied  with  what  he 
already  had  taken ;  for  though  the  trap  lay  a  long 
time  with  its  powerful  jaws  open  to  receive  him, 
he  failed  to  return  for  what  he  had  left.  That  he 
and  perhaps  several  other  bears  were  still  in  the 
neighborhood  was  evident :  a  few  days  later  we 


76  WILD  BROTHER 

learned  that  eleven  sheep  had  been  killed  in  one 
night  on  a  farm  about  five  miles  away  from  our 
camp. 

Bears  are  quite  plentiful  in  some  sections  of 
Maine,  especially  in  our  region,  which  borders  on 
the  wild  lands  of  New  Brunswick.  On  our  trips 
back  into  the  woods,  when  we  went  some  distance 
from  the  little  settlement,  we  often  saw  their  signs. 
They  are  very  fond  of  the  big  black  ants,  which 
live  in  nests  in  rotten  trees.  Frequently  one  finds 
these  ant-trees  rent  and  torn  asunder  by  the  bears' 
powerful  claws.  In  the  spring  their  big  tracks  may 
be  seen  along  the  margins  of  the  waterways  that 
connect  the  lakes.  Here,  where  the  sluggish  suck- 
ers gather  by  the  thousands  at  this  season,  to 
spawn,  the  bear  comes  in  for  a  fare  of  fish.  Here 
also  he  hunts  for  frogs,  of  which  food  he  is  very 
fond. 

To  the  lumbermen  Bruin  is  a  pest.  He  never 
hesitates  to  break  into  an  unoccupied  lumber- 
camp  if  any  food  has  been  left  behind.  In  many  of 
the  camps,  especially  in  New  Brunswick,  the  sup- 
plies for  the  year's  operations  have  to  be  brought 
in  on  sleds  during  the  previous  winter,  the  only 
time  when  transportation  over  the  rough  trails  is 
possible.  During  the  summer  the  empty  lumber- 
camps  are  sometimes  used  as  storehouses  —  bear- 
houses,  they  are  often  called.  In  these  places  many 


Watching  for  his  enemy,  the  dog 


\f3 


One  of  Bruno1  s  wild  relatives  broke  into  this  cask  and  dipped 
the  molasses  out  with  his  paw 


THE  BEAR  MAKES  A  JOURNEY      77 

barrels  of  pork,  flour,  sugar,  and  molasses  are  put 
away  for  safe-keeping.  Windows  and  doors  are 
boarded  over  and  securely  fastened,  as  a  protection 
against  marauding  animals ;  but  in  spite  of  these 
precautions,  the  bears  sometimes  break  in  and  steal. 

We  found  such  a  place  one  day  in  the  woods. 
The  black  rascals  had  torn  off  the  boards  from  the 
log-house  door  and  had  rolled  out  a  puncheon  of 
molasses.  With  their  sharp  teeth  and  claws  they 
had  broken  a  hole  through  the  tough  oak  head  and 
with  their  paws  had  dipped  out  every  drop  from 
the  cask.  Now  that  we  had  an  opportunity  to 
observe  at  close  view  the  sagacity  of  little  Bruno, 
it  was  easier  for  us  to  understand  how  his  wild 
brothers  could  be  such  ingenious  thieves. 

One  noon,  on  the  shores  of  the  lake,  as  we  were 
preparing  to  "boil  the  kettle,"  I  had  a  surprise. 
Joe,  our  Indian  guide,  coming  out  from  the  bushes 
where  he  had  gone  for  dry  wood  to  kindle  our  fire, 
made  an  announcement.  "One  big  black  bear,  he 
been  killed  here  day  before  yes'day." 

On  the  other  side  of  the  point  of  land  from  where 
we  were  lunching,  Joe  had  found  a  deserted  camp- 
ing-place that  recently  had  been  occupied.  Beside 
the  fireplace  he  came  upon  the  skull  of  a  black 
bear,  and  near-by,  on  the  ground,  lay  the  big  fore- 
paws  of  the  animal.  These  he  now  held  up  to 
my  view. 


78  WILD  BROTHER 

"Maybe  he  the  feller  that  stole  molasses,"  he 
volunteered. 

We  were  picking  up  our  things  after  lunch, — 
for  we  were  on  our  way  back  to  the  settlement, — 
when  I  saw  Joe  drop  the  bear's  paws  into  a  bag 
that  he  often  brought  with  him  for  the  storage  of 
odds  and  ends. 

" Those  are  n't  of  any  use,  Joe,"  I  remonstrated. 
"  Why  are  you  going  to  take  them  home  ?" 

"  Maybe  you  see  by-em-by,"  he  chuckled. 

Early  in  the  morning  the  day  after  our  return, 
the  squire  came  down  to  the  camp  in  great  excite- 
ment. A  "busting  big  bear,"  he  told  us,  had  come 
right  up  into  the  cow-yard  behind  the  barn  duringthe 
night.  Tracks  in  the  damp  ground  had  told  the  story. 

"Yes,  sir,  he  even  had  the  nerve  to  drink  out  of 
the  cow's  trough,"  said  the  squire.  "Come,  Joe, 
you  set  the  trap,  this  time.  I'm  going  to  butcher 
a  sheep  to-day  and  I'll  give  you  plenty  of  bait." 

Everyone  about  the  place  was  aroused.  It  was 
time  something  was  done.  This  daring  beast  must 
be  taught  a  lesson.  He  had  killed  a  sheep,  and 
now  evidently  he  wanted  a  calf.  What  next? 
Someone  suggested  that  perhaps  Bruno's  presence 
had  something  to  do  with  the  bear's  impudence. 
We  all  went  down  to  the  barn  to  view  the  tracks. 
Yes,  there  they  were,  and  big  ones  too,  and  plainly 
stamped  for  all  to  see. 


THE  BEAR  MAKES  A  JOURNEY      79 

"That  funny  bear,"  Joe  whispered  to  me.  "All 
time  he  walk  on  front  legs.  You  notice  it  ?" 

Yes,  on  further  examination  there  did  seem  to 
be  a  great  similarity  in  all  those  footprints.  Joe 
was  laughing  now.  "I  guess  no  use  set  trap." 
Then,  giving  me  a  nudge,  he  continued,  "Those 
bear's  paws  I  found  him  yes'day.  You  know  it.  I 
use  um  early  this  morning.  Don't  say  a  word." 

It  was  a  good  joke,  and  the  squire  appreciated 
it  as  much  as  anyone  when  finally  I  told  him  how 
Joe  had  found  and  used  the  dead  bear's  paws. 

All  too  swiftly  our  outing  days  flew  by,  and  the 
time  soon  came  when  we  must  return  to  city  ways 
again  —  a  necessity  that  meant  for  Bruno  a  final 
farewell  to  his  native  woods  and  the  beginning  of 
a  new  and  interesting  life. 


CHAPTER  V 
BRUNO  IN  BELMONT 

BRUNO'S  journey  in  a  big  box  in  the  baggage-car 
was  uneventful,  and  in  due  course  he  arrived 
safely  at  our  suburban  home  in  Belmont,  a  few 
miles  outside  Boston.  Here  the  bear  found  every- 
thing to  his  liking.  At  night,  and  when  not  in 
company  with  some  member  of  the  family,  he 
stayed  in  his  quarters  in  a  box-stall  in  the  cow- 
barn;  but  generally,  throughout  the  daytime,  he 
roamed  wherever  he  wished  about  the  grounds. 
Our  country  place  comprises  several  acres  and,  to- 
gether with  the  adjoining  homes  of  my  brothers 
and  nieces,  provided  Bruno  with  a  considerable 
amount  of  territory  in  which  to  exercise  and  play. 

There  were  trees  to  climb,  a  brook  to  wade  in, 
and  a  small  pond  where  lived  a  colony  of  frogs. 
But  best  of  all  for  the  bear,  when  he  grew  older, 
were  the  gardens  with  vegetables,  fruit,  straw- 
berries, cherries,  raspberries,  and  currants,  all  for 
his  choosing.  It  was  some  time,  however,  before 
he  gave  up  his  diet  of  condensed  milk  with  bread 
and  water.  He  still  insisted  on  feeding  from  the 
wooden  trough  of  his  childhood,  and  he  still  had 
the  habit  of  plunging  his  nose  up  to  his  eyes  in  the 
sticky  milk 


BRUNO  IN  BELMONT  81 

Toward  midsummer,  when  the  cub  was  seven 
months  old,  there  came  a  very  rapid  change  in  his 
appearance.  His  brown  woolly  coat  was  soon 
hidden  beneath  a  heavy  growth  of  straight  black 
silky  hair.  This  outer  fur  first  made  its  appearance 
as  a  dark  line  down  the  middle  of  his  back ;  then 
quickly  it  spread,  until  it  covered  his  whole  body 
and  he  became  a  typical  black  bear. 

One  day,  as  he  played  about  on  the  lawn,  he 
came  across  the  shining  brass  nozzle  of  a  garden 
hose,  propped  up  on  a  stick  in  the  grass.  The  valve 
had  been  partly  shut  off  and  only  a  small  trickle 
of  water  gurgled  forth  from  the  opening.  Bruno 
approached  it  cautiously  a  step  at  a  time,  twisting 
his  head  and  viewing  it  first  from  one  angle  and 
then  from  another.  The  noise  of  the  stream  seemed 
to  give  him  the  idea  that  the  thing  was  alive.  I 
was  standing  at  the  farther  end  of  the  hose,  and 
when  at  last  he  reached  the  nozzle  and  put  his  paw 
out  to  investigate,  I  turned  the  valve  full  open  and 
the  stream  rushed  forth.  Instantly  the  bear  re- 
coiled and,  standing  upright,  looked  with  astonish- 
ment at  the  spectacle  of  water  running  up  hill. 
Never  had  he  seen  the  like  of  this  before.  When  he 
grew  older,  he  learned  to  admire  the  cool  flow  of 
water. 

On  a  hot  day  in  August  he  loved  to  sit  on  the 
lawn  and  let  the  gardener  play  the  hose  upon  him 


82  WILD  BROTHER 

and  souse  him  from  head  to  tail.  Only  when  the 
stream  struck  him  full  in  the  face  and  eyes,  did  he 
rebel.  Then,  snarling,  growling,  and  dabbing  with 
his  paws  at  the  water,  he  would  turn  tail  and  run. 

During  his  first  summer  Bruno  was  usually  given 
a  bath  every  day  by  Mrs.  Underwood,  who  had 
gladly  volunteered  for  this  work.  The  cub  devel- 
oped a  liking  for  these  regular  ablutions.  Com- 
rade, wearing  a  rubber  apron,  used  to  take  him  in 
her  lap  and  administer  the  soap  and  warm  water 
with  a  large  sponge.  To  dry  him  (and  this  part  of 
the  operation  was  the  bear's  special  delight)  a 
woolen  blanket  was  brought  into  use.  Comrade 
held  it  by  two  corners  in  front  of  her,  and  the  bear 
would  come  bounding  up  on  the  run  and  jump  into 
the  middle  of  it.  Instantly  the  robe  was  dropped 
over  him  and  he  would  tumble  about,  end  over 
end,  first  in  one  direction,  then  in  another.  He  en- 
joyed this  mad  romp  immensely.  It  dried  him 
somewhat  and  gave  him  exercise.  Later  this  game 
brought  us  into  trouble.  Bruno  came  to  regard  a 
large  piece  of  cloth  held  up  in  front  of  anyone  as  an 
invitation  for  a  "rough-house"  frolic.  We  were 
mortified  one  day  when,  as  a  lady  was  approaching 
the  house  to  make  a  call,  Bruno  came  romping 
across  the  lawn  and  with  a  joyous  bound  jumped 
squarely  into  the  folds  of  her  clean  white  dress. 
Apologies  were  in  order,  and  the  cub  was  readily 


He  still  insisted  on  feeding  from  the  wooden  trough 


Bruno  was  willing  to  have  his  picture  taken,  but  he  wanted  to 
examine  the  camera  first 


BRUNO  IN  BELMONT  83 

forgiven  when  it  was  explained  how  it  had 
happened. 

Although  he  was  fond  of  sponge- and  shower- 
baths,  he  never  could  be  persuaded  to  go  into  the 
pond  for  a  swim.  He  would  run  and  play  on  the 
shore,  but  he  seemed  unwilling  even  to  put  his  feet 
into  the  water.  I  forced  him  in  one  day,  and  the 
result  was  somewhat  disastrous. 

He  was  standing  on  a  rock,  looking  down  in- 
tently into  the  water,  watching  a  big  fat  pollywog 
that  was  wriggling  about  just  under  his  nose. 
Silently  I  crept  up  behind  him,  and  with  a  push 
on  his  tail  shoved  him  forward.  Quick  as  a  flash 
he  turned  end  for  end,  and  before  I  had  withdrawn 
my  hand  he  had  bitten  me  on  the  thumb.  In  an 
instant,  hardly  wet  from  the  plunge,  he  was  back 
again  on  the  grass,  making  for  my  ankle.  As  mad 
as  a  hornet,  he  rushed  at  me.  Three  times  I  was 
obliged  to  push  him  off  with  my  feet,  and  the  last 
time  I  rolled  him  end  over  end.  That  seemed  to 
bring  him  to  his  senses.  He  played  dead  now,  and 
lay  for  a  time  very  still  on  his  side,  narrowly  watch- 
ing me  all  the  while  from  the  corner  of  his  eye. 

Luckily  these  bursts  of  temper  never  lasted  more 
than  a  few  moments.  Like  a  summer  shower  they 
were  soon  over,  and  all  was  bright  again;  and  he 
never  harbored  any  resentment  for  the  many  chas- 
tisements I  was  obliged  to  give  him. 


84  WILD  BROTHER 

Though  Bruno  recognized  me  as  his  master,  he 
always  went  to  a  woman  if  frightened  or  in  trouble. 
Evidently  he  never  forgot  that  to  a  woman  he 
owed  his  life.  If  a  big  dog  came  in  sight  and  Mrs. 
Underwood  was  anywhere  about,  he  would  leave 
me  and  run  to  her  for  protection.  If  she  was  no- 
where to  be  seen,  he  would  turn  to  any  woman 
whom  he  happened  to  see.  He  was  evidently  a 
ladies'  man.  Even  a  female  voice  had  an  attraction 
for  him.  I  have  known  him  to  leave  me  when  I  was 
playing  with  him,  to  run  toward  the  sound  of  a 
woman's  voice  that  he  had  never  heard  before.  He 
was  captivated  by  a  petticoat. 

Skirts  afforded  him  a  place  of  refuge  in  time  of 
trouble.  This  characteristic  of  our  pet  (when  un- 
known to  our  friends  of  the  gentle  sex  who  came 
to  make  his  acquaintance)  was  sometimes  the 
cause  of  considerable  embarrassment.  A  mouse 
when  seeking  a  hiding-place  has  been  known  to 
cause  a  serious  panic  in  an  audience  of  susceptible 
people.  Imagine  then  the  horror  of  a  gentle  soul 
who  observes  a  bear  rushing  toward  her  feet,  and 
sees  him  disappear  beneath  her  garments.  Such 
a  situation  is,  to  say  the  least,  disturbing  to  a  per- 
son of  sensitive  disposition. 

One  morning  a  lady  who  came  down  the  walk 
pushing  a  baby  carriage  stopped  for  a  moment  to 
talk  with  me.  Bruno,  who  was  playing  near-by, 


He  is  astonished  to  see  water  running  up  hill 


Who  wouldn't  like  this  on  a  hot  summer  day  ? 


BRUNO  IN  BELMONT  85 

suddenly  became  alarmed  by  a  passing  dog.  Hear- 
ing our  voices,  he  jumped  over  the  wall  and  came 
running  up  the  path  toward  the  lady,  his  natural 
protectress.  She,  in  great  alarm,  turned  in  her 
tracks,  and  pulling  her  child  behind  her,  ran  in  the 
opposite  direction.  I  too  joined  the  procession, 
and  tried  to  explain  as  I  ran  that  there  was  no 
cause  at  all  for  alarm.  The  baby  was  the  only 
one  who  enjoyed  that  situation;  for  her  it  was  a 
frolic  long  to  be  remembered. 

All  the  children  on  the  place  were  fond  of  the 
bear  and  loved  to  play  with  him.  Alice  came  over 
one  morning,  bringing  her  brand-new  best  doll. 
"Bruno,"  said  Alice,  with  her  sweetest  smile, 
"don't  you  want  to  know  my  nice  dolly,  Sarah? 
Shake  hands  with  her,  Bruno.  I  hope  you  will 
like  her." 

The  cub  did  seem  to  like  her,  though  he  did  not 
shake  her  hand.  What  he  shook  was  her  head. 
Alice's  smile  changed  instantly  to  a  look  of  con- 
sternation, and  her  voice  grew  sharp  and  tense. 

"  Stop  it,  you  naughty  bear  !  Oh,  see  what  he  is 
doing!  Oh,  please,  Uncle  Lyman,"  she  appealed 
to  me,  " make  him  stop  it. " 

She  was  crying  now,  but  it  was  too  late  for  me  to 
interfere.  The  bear  had  rudely  snatched  the  doll 
from  its  carriage  and  was  making  off  with  it  down 
the  meadow.  Alice,  screaming  in  dismay,  with  her 


86  WILD  BROTHER 

empty  carriage  bouncing  up  and  down  in  front  of 
her,  chased  after  him.  With  some  difficulty  I 
rescued  the  doll.  Its  right  ear  was  badly  lacerated. 
Meanwhile  the  kidnaper  had  climbed  a  ladder  where, 
from  its  top, he  could  view  the  havoc  he  had  wrought. 

By  the  last  of  October,  Bruno  had  lost  most  of 
his  first  teeth  and  his  second  canines  were  growing 
fast.  About  this  time  his  food  disagreed  with  him, 
and  for  a  while  he  became  quite  ill.  His  hind-legs 
seemed  to  be  paralyzed,  and  at  times  he  had  great 
difficulty  in  walking.  I  was  still  feeding  him  on  con- 
densed milk,  from  his  wooden  trough,  three  times 
a  day.  Occasionally  he  foraged  through  the  gar- 
den and  found  some  things  to  his  liking.  Once  I 
discovered  him  in  the  middle  of  a  pansy-bed,  pick- 
ing and  eating  every  blossom  within  reach.  He 
was  very  fond  of  snowberries.  Reaching  up  with 
his  forepaws,  he  bent  down  the  branches  of  the 
shrubs,  and  stripped  all  the  fruit  from  them,  de- 
vouring it  with  apparent  relish. 

The  weakness  in  his  hind-quarters  grew  worse 
and  I  finally  consulted  a  veterinary,  who  advised 
a  change  of  diet  —  less  milk  and  more  cereal  foods, 
with  plenty  of  fruit.  The  fact  that  the  bear  was 
teething  may  have  had  something  to  do  with  his 
condition;  but  at  any  rate  the  change  of  food 
brought  the  desired  result,  and  Bruno  was  soon 
as  well  as  ever. 


Bruno  is  introduced  to  a  new  arrival  in  the  family.   A  moment  aftet 

the  picture  was  taken  he  kidnaped  the  "  baby  ' ' 

and  ran  down  the  meadow 


Finally  to  escape  pursuit  he  dropped  his  booty  and  climbed  a  ladder 


BRUNO  IN  BELMONT  87 

Owing  to  his  uncouth  manner  of  feeding  from 
his  wooden  trough,  it  was  quite  a  task  to  keep  him 
clean  and  presentable.  Condensed  milk  is  sticky, 
and  if  not  removed  at  once  accumulates  all  kinds 
of  dirt.  Though  the  cub  was  not  opposed  to  a  bath, 
for  some  reason  he  did  n't  care  particularly  to  have 
me  scrub  the  gluey  remains  of  his  meals  from  his 
face.  Perhaps  it  was  because  a  good  deal  of  force 
had  to  be  employed  in  order  to  complete  his  toilet. 
My  method  was  simple,  though  rough.  Grasping 
the  youngster  firmly  by  the  back  of  his  neck,  I 
went  rapidly  over  his  dirty  countenance  with  a 
big  sponge.  As  Bruno  grew  larger,  this  act  became 
more  difficult  and  carried  with  it  an  element  of 
danger. 

One  day,  when  I  was  in  a  hurry  with  his  clean- 
ing and  was  perhaps  a  little  rough  in  my  treatment, 
he  bit  my  hand.  I  cuffed  his  ears  quite  soundly, 
and  gave  him  a  piece  of  my  mind.  In  spite  of  this 
lesson,  the  next  day  he  bit  me  again,  without  any 
occasion  for  it,  and  added  a  few  scratches  with  his 
claws  as  if  to  show  his  authority.  This  time  I  chas- 
tised him  with  a  switch.  Next  morning  I  was  pre- 
pared for  more  trouble.  I  had  ready  at  hand  a 
good-sized  stick,  for  I  had  made  up  my  mind  that 
the  bear  had  to  be  taught  that  I  was  his  master. 
I  wanted  to  get  a  picture  of  the  proceedings,  should 
anything  happen  that  might  be  of  interest. 


88  WILD  BROTHER 

My  cousin  kindly  offered  to  take  a  hand  in  the 
affair.  In  order  that  the  accumulation  of  food  on 
the  bear's  face  might  be  seen  plainly  in  the  photo- 
graph, I  had  put  some  dry  flour  into  his  breakfast. 
This  touch  of  dingy  whiteness  gave  him  such  a  ludi- 
crous aspect  that  I  laughed  in  spite  of  myself, 
though  I  knew  full  well  that  it  would  add  to  the 
difficult  task  ahead  of  us. 

Bruno  had  eaten  his  breakfast  in  the  box-stall 
out  in  the  cow-barn.  Having  finished  his  repast, 
without  any  further  preliminaries  he  took  up  his 
position  in  one  corner  of  the  stall,  where  he  could 
be  safe  from  any  attack  in  the  rear.  He  seemed  to 
know  that  there  was  trouble  brewing,  and  the  ex- 
pression on  his  face  conveyed  the  idea  that  he  was 
ready  and  eager  for  it.  I  suggested  to  my  cousin 
that  he  take  the  sponge,  advance  toward  the  cor- 
ner, and  make  as  if  he  were  going  to  wash  the  bear's 
face.  I  would  stand  by  with  the  camera,  and  if  any- 
thing unusual  happened,  I  would  take  a  picture 
of  it. 

As  we  were  planning  the  attack,  Bruno  stood  up 
on  his  hind-legs,  put  his  back  against  the  wall,  and 
thrust  his  paws  out  in  front  of  him  like  a  prize- 
fighter awaiting  the  call  for  action.  But  my  cousin 
was  n't  particularly  anxious  to  begin.  "  I  may  not 
know  much  about  photography,"  he  said,  "but  I 
must  confess  that  I  have  no  knowledge  whatever 


BRUNO  IN  BELMONT  89 

on  the  subject  of  bears.  I  '11  take  the  camera  and 
do  the  best  I  can,  and  you  take  the  sponge  and  do 
the  washing." 

I  finally  persuaded  him  to  make  a  bluff  at  it 
anyway,  and  promised  not  to  let  the  bear  do  him 
any  damage  while  he  was  making  the  attempt. 
With  considerable  apprehension  depicted  on  his 
face,  he  slowly  and  cautiously  advanced  until  the 
sponge  was  only  two  feet  from  Bruno's  head  and 
just  beyond  reach  of  the  cub's  paws,  which  were 
held  alert,  ready  for  immediate  action.  Here  for  a 
moment  he  paused,  while  the  bear,  looking  him 
squarely  in  the  eye,  held  his  ground.  "Come  on, 
if  you  dare,"  his  attitude  plainly  implied. 

Cousin  moved  a  step  forward,  and  nothing  hap- 
pened; another  step,  and  still  no  trouble.  Then 
came  the  surprise.  The  sponge  was  lowered  slowly 
until  it  touched  the  cub's  head.  Still  Bruno  made 
no  fuss,  but  standing  quietly  in  the  corner,  with  the 
utmost  composure  allowed  himself  to  be  washed 
without  a  murmur  of  complaint.  I  never  quite 
knew  whether  it  was  the  punishment  of  the  day 
before,  or  the  big  stick  that  he  saw  in  my  hand, 
that  changed  his  attitude.  At  any  rate  I  never 
had  any  further  trouble  about  washing  his  face. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  within  a  few  days  he  graduated 
from  the  wooden  trough  and  ate  his  meals  without 
any  fuss  from  whatever  dish  we  set  before  him. 


90  WILD  BROTHER 

Owing  to  his  unusual  bringing  up,  Bruno  had 
never  become  acquainted  with  the  ordinary  ani- 
mals of  the  woods  and  fields,  and  so  I  was  curious 
to  see  what  he  would  do  when  he  met  any  of  them. 
Down  in  the  garden  one  day  I  found  a  large  fat 
toad,  and  when  Bruno  was  at  lunch  I  placed  the 
warty  creature  on  the  ground  beside  the  saucer 
from  which  the  cub  was  taking  his  food.  Being 
quite  hungry,  at  first  he  paid  no  attention  to  the 
intruder;  but  presently,  as  the  saucer  became 
empty,  he  caught  sight  of  his  curious  visitor.  With 
a  jerk  he  raised  his  head,  and  for  a  moment,  with- 
out moving  a  muscle,  gazed  in  astonishment  and 
with  some  misgiving  at  the  strange  monstrosity 
in  front  of  him.  His  natural  curiosity,  however, 
soon  overcame  his  doubtful  frame  of  mind ;  he  was 
a  born  investigator  and  this  thing  must  be  looked 
into.  Very  cautiously  he  reached  forward  his  paw 
and  ever  so  gently  he  touched  the  curious  thing  on 
the  back. 

The  toad  did  as  toads  usually  do  when  tickled 
from  behind.  It  hopped,  and  with  such  force  that 
it  went  quite  over  the  saucer.  Simultaneously  the 
bear  stood  erect.  He  had  a  puzzled  look  of  amaze- 
ment and  dismay  on  his  hairy  visage ;  he  appeared 
to  be  utterly  overcome  with  astonishment.  It 
did  n't  seem  reasonable  that  an  insignificant  mis- 
shapen creature  like  that  could,  with  no  apparent 


"Come  on  if  you  dare"  his  attitude  plainly  implied 


BRUNO  IN  BELMONT  91 

effort,  cover  so  much  ground  in  one  leap.  Bruno's 
paws  hung  inertly  in  front  of  him  and  his  tongue 
lolled  stupidly  from  his  mouth.  His  breath  came 
in  short  explosive  gasps. 

Suddenly  the  toad  hopped  again,  and  with  a 
"Whoofy  whoof,  whoofy"  away  ran  the  bear  round 
the  corner  and  out  of  sight.  No  more  toads  for 
him ;  one  was  enough  for  a  lifetime ! 

Bruno  apparently  had  a  similar  horror  of  frogs 
(rather  strangely  too,  for  wild  bears  eat  frogs) 
whenever  they  jumped  unexpectedly  from  the 
grass  as  he  played  about  the  pond.  If  one  leaped 
in  sight,  he  whined  and  snorted  with  terror,  and 
waved  his  paws  in  the  air  as  if  to  ward  off  the  evil 
thing.  Even  a  mouse  that  I  liberated  from  a  trap 
drove  him  to  distraction.  The  tiny  creature 
chanced  to  run  in  his  direction,  but  it  did  not  reach 
him,  for  Bruno  was  off  and  away  at  breakneck 
speed,  and  the  mouse  was  left  far  behind. 

The  cub  was  growing  rapidly  now.  On  Novem- 
ber 8,  he  weighed  forty-three  pounds.  Once  a 
week  I  got  out  the  scales  and  had  him  stand  on  the 
platform  to  have  his  weight  recorded.  He  was 
also  gaining  in  strength,  and  although  his  out- 
bursts of  temper  were  less  frequent  as  he  grew 
older,  they  were  more  violent  when  they  did  occur. 

As  with  a  spoiled  child,  everything  was  lovely 
as  long  as  he  could  do  as  he  wished.  I  was  fre- 


92  WILD  BROTHER 

quently  asked/'How  long  are  you  going  to  keep 
that  bear?"  And  my  answer  usually  was,  "As 
long  as  he  will  keep  me." 

It  was  a  mooted  question  in  the  town,  which 
would  go  first,  Underwood  or  the  bear;  but  I  did 
not  want  to  lose  my  cub,  for  of  all  the  long  list  of 
animal  pets  that  I  had  owned  Bruno  was  easily  the 
best  and  most  interesting.  Winter  was  close  at 
hand,  and  with  the  cold  weather  the  bear  would 
probably  be  asleep  most  of  the  time.  Under  these 
circumstances  no  harm  could  come  to  anyone,  and 
I  made  up  my  mind  to  keep  him  at  least  until  the 
following  spring. 

The  advent  of  a  new  calf  in  our  cow-barn  made 
it  necessary  that  Bruno  should  take  up  other 
quarters,  for  the  mother  cow  was  now  seriously  op- 
posed to  his  presence.  Out  in  front  of  the  house 
was  a  fair-sized  cage,  which  in  former  days  had 
been  occupied  by  my  various  other  animal  friends. 
Just  outside,  a  few  feet  from  the  end  of  the  cage,  I 
dug  a  deep  hole  in  the  ground,  and  in  it  I  placed  a 
large  dry-goods  box,  then  covered  it  with  earth.  I 
connected  the  box  with  the  cage  by  an  underground 
passage,  using  two  empty  flour-barrels  to  form  a 
tunnel.  Bruno's  home  was  now  ready  for  occu- 
pancy, and  presently  he  moved  in.  He  found  no 
fault  with  his  new  quarters,  except  when  he  was 
left  alone;  then  he  was  uneasy  and  fretted  and 


BRUNO  IN  BELMONT  93 

howled  dismally.  So  long  as  there  was  anyone  in 
sight,  he  made  no  fuss. 

Some  of  my  brothers'  dogs  were  often  playing 
about,  and  now  that  the  bear  was  caged,  he  wanted 
to  make  friends  with  them.  This  suggested  to  me 
the  idea  that  a  dog  might  be  a  good  companion  to 
cheer  him  up  a  bit  when  we  were  away.  But  no 
one  would  lend  me  a  dog  for  the  experiment.  Just 
at  this  time,  as  good  luck  would  have  it,  however, 
I  had  a  chance  to  buy  a  dog  at  a  cut-rate  price.  I 
was  crossing  Boston  Common  one  morning  when  I 
was  accosted  by  a  dirty,  unshaven  individual  lead- 
ing a  disreputable-looking  dog  by  a  string. 

"I  say,  mister,"  he  muttered,  "could  yer  give 
a  feller  the  loan  of  a  quarter?"  Then  he  added, 
as  he  saw  a  doubtful  expression  come  over  my  face, 
"I  '11  pay  you  back  when  I  sell  this  dog." 

Here  was  my  chance.  "What  do  you  ask  for  the 
dog,  and  what  kind  of  dog  is  it  ?" 

"  She  's  a  good  dog ;  I  'm  hard-up  and  I  '11  sell  her 
for  fifty  cents ;  I  call  her  a  beagle,"  said  the  man. 

"You  might  also  call  her  a  spaniel,"  I  volun- 
teered, "  but  she  looks  to  me  more  like  a  fox-terrier." 

"Well,  maybe  she  is,"  the  dog  man  assented. 
"The  feller  that  give  her  to  me  called  her  Foxy. 
Maybe  that 's  why  he  give  her  that  name." 

Fox-terrier,  dachshund,  or  spaniel,  it  made  no 
difference  to  me.  She  was  a  live  dog.  Where  again 


94  WILD  BROTHER 

would  I  ever  be  able  to  get  so  much  dog  for  so 
little  money?  The  transaction  was  immediately 
concluded,  and  I  stepped  briskly  off  with  my  prize 
in  tow.  Arrived  at  home,  I  gave  her  a  hearty 
dinner. 

It  did  my  soul  good  to  see  her  eat.  It  did  her 
good  also.  Her  whole  appearance  changed ;  she  had 
some  style  now.  She  pricked  up  her  ears,  lifted 
her  tail  from  between  her  legs,  and  wagged  it  rap- 
idly to  and  fro.  Then  I  gave  her  a  bath,  and  when 
she  was  clean,  she  looked  the  lady  that  she 
really  was.  She  was  black  and  white  on  back  and 
sides,  with  spots  of  tan  on  cheeks  and  ears  and 
both  forelegs  —  a  very  respectable-appearing  fox- 
terrier. 

For  a  day  or  two  Bruno,  when  out  of  his  cage, 
would  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  dog.  Every 
time  Foxy  came  near  him,  he  ran  to  Comrade  for 
protection.  Foxy  had  no  fear  whatever  of  the 
bear;  in  fact,  the  day  after  her  arrival  she  drove 
him  away  from  his  dinner  and  ate  it  herself.  Little 
by  little  Bruno  overcame  his  fear,  and  by  the  end 
of  the  week  they  were  firm  friends.  Foxy  was  glad 
to  spend  a  few  hours  each  day  in  the  cage  with  her 
new  companion,  and  when  not  in  the  cage  she  was 
usually  within  sight.  It  was  a  fine  arrangement, 
and  from  now  on  Bruno  was  a  happy  and  con- 
tented bear. 


BRUNO  IN  BELMONT  95 

The  fame  of  my  pet  had  gone  abroad,  and  many 
people  came  to  see  him.  By  this  time  I  had  made 
my  photographs  into  lantern-slides  and  had  told 
the  story  on  several  occasions,  illustrating  it  with 
the  stereopticon.  I  was  bothered  by  frequent  re- 
quests from  newspapers  and  magazines  that  wanted 
the  story  for  publication ;  and  about  this  time  a 
letter  came  from  Mrs.  Weldon,  saying  that  a  news- 
paper man  had  been  to  see  her. 

"He  was  crazy  to  get  those  pictures  and  have 
me  tell  the  story,"  she  wrote ;  "but  I  would  n't  tell 
him  a  thing,  and  I  would  n't  let  him  see  the  pic- 
tures. He  was  real  mad  about  it." 

One  day,  when  we  were  out  of  town,  a  reporter 
appeared  at  my  home.  He  told  the  housekeeper 
that  he  wanted  to  photograph  the  bear,  and  though 
he  was  refused  permission,  he  insisted  that  this 
cub  was  in  a  way  public  property  and,  as  his  paper 
had  ordered  him  to  make  a  story,  he  would  have 
to  do  as  he  had  been  told.  So,  in  spite  of  all  that 
could  be  done,  he  had  his  own  way ;  and  next  day 
there  appeared  in  one  of  the  Boston  papers  an 
article  which  contained  many  misstatements  and 
was  illustrated  by  a  picture  that  looked  more  like  a 
St.  Bernard  dog  than  it  did  like  a  bear. 

It  was  but  natural  that  my  story  of  Bruno's 
unique  bringing-up  should  attract  unusual  atten- 
tion. No  one  had  ever  heard  of  a  woman  doing  a 


96  WILD  BROTHER 

thing  of  this  kind  before.  While  it  is  probably  true 
that  no  other  bear's  life  had  ever  been  saved  in  the 
same  way  for  a  similar  reason,  I  was  soon  to  learn 
of  an  extraordinary  custom  that  has  to  do  with  the 
feeding  of  bears'  cubs  in  an  analogous  way.  This 
curious  practice  is  indulged  in  by  the  Ainus,  those 
quaint  and  primitive  people  of  Aryan  stock  who 
were  the  original  inhabitants  of  the  Japanese 
islands,  and  who  now,  in  dwindling  numbers,  live 
on  the  island  of  Yezo.  It  is  an  ancient  belief  of  the 
Ainus  that  they  are  descended  from  the  bear,  the 
animal  that  plays  the  most  prominent  part  in  cer- 
tain of  their  religious  ceremonies. 

Bears'  cubs  are  highly  prized  and  much  sought 
by  these  simple  people.  The  Ainu  hunters  are  will- 
ing to  risk  their  lives  in  order  to  secure  a  live  cub. 
When  captured,  the  little  creatures  are  handed 
over  to  certain  women  who  have  been  specially 
chosen  to  nurse  and  bring  them  up.  These  cubs, 
as  was  the  case  with  Bruno,  often  become  mem- 
bers of  the  family  and  play  with  the  children ; 
but  their  treatment  does  not  come  from  any 
love  of  the  animal  or  from  any  wish  to  preserve 
its  life.  Quite  the  contrary,  in  fact.  At  a  certain 
age,  its  life  is  sacrificed,  and  with  much  rejoicing, 
at  the  time  of  a  great  feast,  the  flesh  is  eaten. 

I  became  aware  of  these  customs  in  a  curious 
and  singular  way.  In  the  fall  of  1904  I  attended  the 


BRUNO  IN  BELMONT  97 

World's  Fair  at  St.  Louis.  While  visiting  the  an- 
thropological exhibition,  where  were  gathered  to- 
gether people  from  all  sections  of  the  globe,  I 
came  to  the  village  of  the  Ainus,  and  knowing  a 
little  of  their  history,  I  was  much  interested  in 
them. 

I  soon  became  acquainted  with  the  man  who  had 
these  people  in  charge,  and  learned  from  him  more 
of  their  unusual  customs  and  beliefs.  I  had  brought 
with  me  to  St.  Louis  some  of  my  bear  photographs, 
and  next  day  I  again  visited  the  Ainu  village  and 
took  my  pictures  with  me.  The  simple  people  were 
called  together  in  one  of  their  larger  buildings,  and 
through  an  interpreter  I  told  them  the  story  of  my 
bear.  They  listened  with  the  utmost  attention  and 
respect,  and  plainly  but  quietly  expressed  great 
interest  and  amazement. 

Afterward,  when  I  passed  around  the  pictures, 
my  audience  became  violently  excited.  They  jab- 
bered and  gesticulated  one  to  another,  pointed  to 
the  pictures  and  then  to  me.  Some  of  them  stepped 
forward  and  gave  me  what  I  took  to  be  a  form  of 
salutation.  The  men  went  through  a  series  of  dig- 
nified motions  with  their  hands,  slowly  rubbing 
them  together,  then  waving  them  about,  and  con- 
cluded this  exercise  by  stroking  their  beards.  The 
women's  method  of  expressing  approval  was  more 
simple.  They  placed  their  right  hand  held  open 


98  WILD  BROTHER 

over  the  mouth  and  drew  it  several  times  from 
left  to  right  across  the  lips. 

At  the  time  of  my  exhibition  the  Ainus  chanced 
to  have  with  them  as  transient  visitors  a  stoical 
western  North  American  Indian  and  his  squaw. 
They  were  clad  in  all  the  finery  of  their  tribe.  It 
was  interesting  to  observe  the  contrast  in  the 
behavior  and  actions  of  these  distinctly  different 
races  of  aboriginal  peoples.  The  Indians  sat  in 
dignified  silence  a  little  at  one  side,  on  the  floor. 
They  expressed  no  particular  interest  in  the  pro- 
ceedings. Not  until  they  saw  the  photographs,  did 
a  gleam  of  animation  show  on  their  inert  counte- 
nances. They  leaned  a  little  forward  now,  and 
exchanged  a  few  low  spoken  words  together,  as 
they  gazed  at  the  pictures.  "Good,"  grunted  the 
noble  red  man  a  moment  later,  as,  with  a  solemn 
face  and  a  slight  inclination  of  his  head,  he  handed 
the  collection  back  to  me. 

Bruno  and  the  fox-terrier  had  now  become  boon 
companions,  and  whenever  the  bear  was  given  his 
liberty,  they  romped  together  by  the  hour.  Foot- 
ball was  a  favorite  sport  with  them.  Out  on  the 
lawn  they  chased  the  ball  about  and  executed  some 
wonderful  plays.  To  make  it  possible  for  them  to 
carry  the  ball,  it  was  never  fully  blown  up  and  the 
lacings,  which  were  extra  long  and  heavy,  hung  in 


BRUNO  IN  BELMONT  99 

loops  and  were  not  drawn  tightly  together. 

There  were  no  particular  rules  about  their  game ; 
it  was  every  man  for  himself,  each  striving  to  keep 
the  ball  as  long  as  possible  from  his  opponent. 
Foxy's  place  on  the  team  was  at  tackle,  and  in  this 
position  she  was  a  star  player.  Her  method  was 
unique.  Bruno,  after  a  heavy  plunge  through 
centre  for  a  ten-yard  gain,  would  be  off  for  a  long 
run  down  an  open  field,  with  no  one  between 
him  and  the  last  white  line,  for  a  touchdown. 

Foxy  was  too  light  in  weight  to  stop  the  big  full- 
back by  any  ordinary  method  of  play ;  but  what 
she  lacked  in  weight  she  more  than  made  up  in 
speed  and  head-work.  Her  opponent  once  having 
passed  her,  she  was  in  a  position  to  execute  that 
particular  play  for  which  she  had  become  so  justly 
famous.  Three  rapid  jumps  brought  her  within 
striking  distance  of  her  flying  adversary ;  one  jump 
more  and  the  tackle  was  made,  and  the  fullback 
was  downed  in  his  tracks. 

We  never  quite  understood  how  Foxy  knew  of 
the  one  weak  spot  in  Bruno's  make-up,  though  the 
knowledge  of  it  may  have  been  acquired  by  acci- 
dent. As  she  overtook  her  opponent  from  the  rear 
she  naturally  tackled  that  part  of  his  anatomy  that 
came  first  to  hand.  It  was  n't  a  case  of  taking  the 
bull  by  the  horns  —  it  was  taking  the  bear  by  the 
tail.  The  surprise  and  the  force  of  the  sudden  re- 


ioo  WILD  BROTHER 

straint  so  completely  upset  the  bear's  calculations 
that  he  lost  his  head,  dropped  the  ball,  and  mad 
with  rage  and  chagrin,  began  to  bite  his  paw. 
Foxy  immediately  pounced  upon  the  oval,  and 
rolled  it  out  of  reach. 

Sometimes  the  dog  was  caught  with  the  ball. 
Hidden  now  from  sight  beneath  the  black  fur  of 
the  bear,  she  kicked  and  squirmed  and  tried  to  get 
away,  but  strong  arms  held  her  fast  until  she  lost 
her  temper  and  began  to  bite;  then  she  was  re- 
leased. 

Strangely  enough,  in  all  their  rough-and-tumble 
play  the  bear  never  tried  to  hurt  the  dog.  Foxy 
might  pull  his  tail  or  bite  his  ear,  but  he  never 
punished  her  for  it.  He  might  make  it  interesting 
for  someone  else,  however,  if  someone  happened 
to  be  in  the  immediate  vicinity.  One  day  Foxy 
wanted  a  share  of  the  bear's  dinner,  and  several 
times  Bruno  mildly  pushed  her  aside  when  she 
tried  to  get  it.  Suddenly,  in  exasperation,  she  took 
him  by  the  ear,  and  jerking  and  tugging  upon  it, 
tried  to  pull  him  away.  In  a  towering  rage  he 
shook  himself  clear,  and  making  a  straight  dash 
for  me,  caught  me  by  the  slack  of  my  lower  gar- 
ment and  held  on  until  the  cloth  gave  way. 

Early  in  December,  as  the  days  grew  colder, 
Bruno  began  to  spend  more  of  his  time  in  his  den ; 
on  a  chilly  morning  he  seldom  made  his  appearance 


Once  a  week  his  weight  was  recorded 


Football  was  a  favorite  sport  with  these  friends 


BRUNO  IN  BELMONT  101 

before  eleven  o'clock.  Several  wheelbarrow  loads 
of  dry  leaves,  which  were  put  into  his  cage,  he 
promptly  took  beneath  the  ground  for  bedding. 
The  entrance  to  his  subway  he  always  kept  closed, 
using  part  of  his  leaves  for  this  purpose. 

My  bear  never  really  denned  up,  or  hibernated, 
as  is  the  custom  of  wild  bears  at  this  season. 
Only  when  it  was  very  cold  for  several  days,  with 
the  thermometer  standing  well  below  the  freezing- 
point,  did  he  stay  down  below  for  any  length  of 
time.  These  periods  of  hibernation  seldom  ex- 
tended more  than  a  week.  During  these  times  of 
seclusion  it  seemed  impossible,  however,  to  awaken 
the  bear,  even  though  I  called  loudly  to  him  with 
my  mouth  close  to  the  entrance  of  his  retreat,  and 
rattled  a  spoon  against  his  feeding-dish,  making  an 
alluring  sound  that  formerly  had  brought  him  out 
quickly  enough. 

On  a  cold  day,  when  Bruno  lay  in  a  stupor  in  his 
bedroom  down  below,  a  naturalist  who  was  a 
friend  of  mine  came  to  see  him.  He  had  made  a 
long  journey  for  this  purpose,  and  I  was  loath  to 
disappoint  him,  but  there  seemed  to  be  no  way  to 
get  the  bear  in  sight.  Though  I  called  and  shouted, 
there  was  no  response. 

It  was  Foxy  who  solved  the  problem  and  saved 
the  day  for  me.  She  had  entered  the  cage  and  stood 
wagging  her  tail,  with  her  head  in  the  tunnel, 


102  WILD  BROTHER 

while  I  was  calling.  Suddenly  she  dove  into  the 
leaves  and  disappeared  in  the  subway.  Soon  there 
came  to  us  up  through  the  passage  the  distant 
sound  of  an  altercation.  Foxy  was  scolding  and 
Bruno  whining  and  complaining. 

The  noise  grew  louder,  and  presently  the  dog's 
stubby  tail  appeared  through  the  leaves.  It  was 
twitching  in  great  excitement.  Slowly  by  a  series 
of  spasmodic  jerks  her  body  came  in  view.  Then 
Bruno's  sleepy  face  appeared.  One  ear  was  lost  to 
sight,  for  Foxy  held  it  in  her  mouth.  Tugging, 
straining,  and  scolding,  she  dragged  him  forth 
inch  by  inch,  nor  relinquished  her  grip  till  he  stood 
clear  of  his  threshold.  Then  she  turned  to  me  for 
recognition  and  praise,  and  having  received  it,  left 
the  cage.  Bruno  yawned  and  opened  wide  his 
cavernous  mouth;  he  winked  his  blurry  eyes  and 
shook  his  drowsy  head.  Bits  of  dried  leaves  stick- 
ing to  his  face  gave  him  a  befuddled,  carry-me- 
home  expression  that  was  ridiculous  to  behold. 
One  almost  expected  to  hear  him  ask:  "What's 
the  matter,  boys  ?  Where  am  I  at  ?  What 's  all 
this  row  about?" 

For  some  time  he  sat  stupidly  gazing  here  and 
there ;  then  slowly  his  wits  came  back  to  him.  He 
got  up  on  his  feet  and  laboriously  stretched  first 
one  leg  and  then  another,  as  if  he  were  trying  them  out 
to  see  if  he  really  would  be  able  to  walk  about  again. 


BRUNO  IN  BELMONT  103 

During  these  coldest  days  the  bear  was  not  a  par- 
ticularly interesting  pet,  and  I  may  as  well  let  him 
sleep  for  a  time,  while  I  turn  to  some  incidents 
which,  though  they  concern  Bruno  only  indirectly, 
are  in  many  ways  the  most  extraordinary  part  of 
his  life-story. 


CHAPTER  VI 

IN  TIMES  OF  TROUBLE 

IT  might  naturally  be  supposed  that  Bruno, 
when  he  left  the  lowly  log-cabin  home  of  the  Wei- 
dons  in  the  forest,  would  have  gone  forever  out  of 
their  lives,  to  be  remembered  only  as  a  frolicsome 
pet  about  whom  they  would  always  have  a  fund  of 
interesting  stories  to  tell.  Surely  no  one  could  have 
imagined  that  the  act  of  saving  from  starvation 
this  furry  mite  of  helplessness  could  possibly  play 
any  far-reaching  part  in  the  destiny  of  the  back- 
woods family.  Who  would  have  thought  that  this 
kindly  deed  would  be  the  means  of  saving  the  life 
of  the  generous  mother,  and  again  and  again  bring- 
ing help  to  the  family  in  times  of  sore  distress  and 
need  ?  Yet  this,  indeed,  is  the  simple  truth. 

The  spark  of  life  kept  burning  within  the  little 
creature  that  had  been  born  beneath  the  cold 
winter  snows  kindled,  as  it  were,  a  genial  glow  that 
has  wrought  many  wonderful  things  for  the  Wei- 
dons.  Even  to-day,  when  I  am  writing  this  story, 
eighteen  years  after  the  first  incident  happened, 
it  has  not  ceased  to  bring  them  cheer  and  comfort, 
with  practical  help,  when  in  sickness  or  in  trouble. 

Late  in  the  winter  of  1904  I  again  visited  my 
camp  in  Maine.  I  had  previously  heard  that  the 


Bruno  falls  on  the  ball.    First  down,  ten  yards  to  gain 


He  could  cling  to  a  tree  like  a  squirrel 


IN  TIMES  OF  TROUBLE  105 

Weldon  family  was  having  difficulties.  Mr.  Wei- 
don,  some  time  before  my  acquaintance  with  him, 
had  cut  his  foot  quite  badly  with  an  axe.  The 
wound  had  never  healed  in  a  proper  manner,  and 
in  the  fall  of  the  year  when  I  took  the  bear,  he  had 
the  misfortune  to  have  this  same  foot  crushed  be- 
neath a  heavy  log.  While  this  accident  did  not  in- 
capacitate him  entirely,  it  made  it  very  difficult 
for  him  to  work  with  any  degree  of  comfort.  In 
fact,  this  infirmity  prevented  him  from  earning  his 
usual  wages. 

At  the  railroad  settlement  we  learned  that  the 
family  had  left  the  lumber-camp  in  the  woods,  and 
was  now  living  in  a  small  log-house  close  beside 
the  road,  about  half-way  in  to  the  lakes.  Our  way 
took  us  past  their  door,  and  we  stopped  to  call. 

Mrs.  Weldon  and  her  three  children  were  at 
home.  Because  of  their  straitened  circumstances 
she  had  been  obliged  to  give  up  the  two  adopted 
ones,  and  her  oldest  child  —  now  a  little  girl  of  six 
years  —  was  the  housekeeper ;  for  she  herself  lay 
ill  upon  the  sofa.  Mr.  Weldon  was  away  looking 
for  work,  but  owing  to  the  painful  condition  of  his 
foot  had  been  unable  to  do  much  for  several  months. 
The  kind-hearted  mother  was  weak,  discouraged, 
and  worn  in  mind  and  body.  With  the  coming  of 
spring  there  would  be  another  mouth  to  feed,  and 
the  doctor  had  told  her  that,  unless  she  could  rest 


io6  WILD  BROTHER 

and  regain  her  health  and  strength,  her  prospect 
of  living  to  see  the  summer  was  extremely  un- 
certain. 

In  spite  of  these  unfavorable  predictions,  she 
uttered  never  a  word  of  complaint,  nor  did  she  ask, 
or  in  any  way  suggest,  that  we  come  to  her  as- 
sistance. However,  we  were  able  to  send  from  our 
camp  a  number  of  things  that  added  to  the  com- 
fort of  the  Weldons. 

Shortly  after  our  return  from  Maine,  I  told  the 
story  of  the  bear  before  an  audience  of  influential 
men  in  Boston.  I  illustrated  it  with  stereopticon 
slides,  and  showed  many  of  the  pictures  which  ap- 
pear in  this  book.  The  effect  was  both  surprising 
and  gratifying ;  for  without  the  slightest  intimation 
on  my  part  that  any  material  help  for  the  family 
would  be  welcome,  a  substantial  sum  of  money 
was  contributed  by  the  club  members  who  were 
present.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  arrangements  had 
already  been  made  for  the  immediate  relief  of  the 
Weldons. 

The  better  to  show  the  sincere  and  genuine  qual- 
ities of  these  faithful  people,  I  will  bring  into  my 
story  a  number  of  letters  which  from  time  to  time 
they  have  sent  me  and  which  will  give  mute  though 
convincing  evidence  of  the  sterling,  ingenuous  char- 
acter of  the  family.  The  first  of  these  letters  is 
dated  February  28,  1904,  and  reads  as  follows :  — 


The  bear  always  treated  Foxy  with  the  greatest  gentleness, 
even  when  the  dog  bit  his  paws 


IN  TIMES  OF  TROUBLE  107 

KIND  FRIENDS  :  — 

It  is  indeed  with  heartfelt  gratitude  that  we 
write  our  thanks  for  your  kindness  to  us,  for  the 
food  and  clothing  and  the  money  to  pay  the  doc- 
tor, who  gave  the  help  that  Mrs.  Weldon  stood  so 
much  in  need  of.  She  is  not  yet  able  to  be  around 
the  house  but  a  very  little,  but  she  is  much  better, 
and  as  the  warmer  weather  approaches,  the  doctor 
thinks  she  will  get  well. 

The  box  from  Boston  arrived  safely  and  another 
one  from  Springfield,  also  the  check.  This  we  gave 
to  the  doctor  and  much  help  we  have  gained 
through  him  and  the  medicine  which  he  furnished 
us.  Again  we  wish  to  thank  you  for  your  kindness 
and  any  way  we  can  serve  you  please  let  us  know 
and  we  will  be  only  too  glad  to  do  it. 

Gratefully  yours, 
G.  M.  and  MRS.  K.  W.  WELDON. 

In  April  came  this  letter :  — 

DEAR  MRS.  UNDERWOOD:  — 

I  received  the  box  you  sent  me  all  safely,  and  I 
thank  you  very  much  for  the  things  that  came  in 
it.  I  am  stronger  and  Mr.  Weldon  feels  better  than 
he  has  for  months.  I  think  with  you  that  I  had 
lost  my  courage  to  live  my  life  as  I  had  found  it. 
But  thanks  to  your  kind  interest  in  me  and  my 


io8  WILD  BROTHER 

family  and  the  help  that  has  been  given  us,  I 
shall  have  my  health  and  strength  back  again 
when  summer  comes. 

Gratefully, 

K.  W.  WELDON. 

On  May  5  there  came  these  welcome  tidings 
from  Mr.  Weldon : 

•• 
DEAR  SIR: — 

It  is  with  pleasure  that  I  write  to  let  you  know 
that  Mrs.  Weldon  is  on  the  road  to  recovery.  We 
have  another  daughter.  She  came  with  the  swal- 
lows on  May  2d.  The  baby  and  Mrs.  Weldon  are 
doing  well  and  I  am  happy.  Thanking  you  for 
your  kindness  we  both  remain  truly  yours, 

G.  M.  WELDON. 

I  was  now  receiving  a  good  many  requests  for 
the  bear  lecture,  which  I  was  giving  under  the  title 
"A  Strange  Story  of  the  North  Woods."  As  I 
continued  to  relate  these  unusual  happenings,  I 
was  constantly  receiving  additional  proof  that 
there  was  something  in  them  that  made  a  strong 
appeal  to  the  hearts  of  the  men  and  women  who 
heard  the  story.  Sums  of  money  were  voluntarily 
sent  me,  with  the  request  that  I  use  them  for  Mrs. 
Weldon. 


IN  TIMES  OF  TROUBLE  109 

This  spirit  was  vividly  manifested  at  a  dinner 
given  by  the  Camp-Fire  Club  of  America  one  eve- 
ning, at  the  Hotel  Astor  in  New  York.  This  club 
is  an  organization  of  gentlemen  who  are  interested 
in  the  better  protection  of  birds,  fish,  and  animals, 
and  in  the  preservation  of  the  forests. 

More  than  three  hundred  members  and  their 
guests  were  present  on  the  occasion  when  I  had 
been  invited  to  tell  them  the  story  of  the  bear. 
The  audience  was  attentive  and  sympathetic,  and 
at  the  conclusion  of  my  narrative  a  gentleman 
rose  and,  addressing  the  president  of  the  club, 
said :  — 

"Mr.  President,  if  it  is  agreeable  to  the  members 
of  this  club,  I  move  that  someone  be  appointed  to 
pass  the  hat  around  these  tables  and  take  a  col- 
lection for  that  good  woman.'* 

Immediately  I  rose  and,  requesting  that  this 
motion  should  not  prevail,  explained  that  already 
a  sum  of  money  had  been  set  aside  for  Mrs.  Wei- 
don's  benefit,  and  that  I  anticipated  having  no 
trouble  in  getting  more  if  it  were  needed.  Of  course 
I  appreciated  their  generous  thought,  but  I  should 
be  better  pleased  if  nothing  were  done  about  it  at 
that  time.  I  had  no  sooner  finished  speaking  than 
another  member  of  the  club  rose  and,  catching  the 
president's  eye,  said  :  — 

"Mr.  President,  one  of  the  objects  for  which  this 


i  io  WILD  BROTHER 

club  exists  is  the  protection  and  propagation  of 
wild  life.  I  think  that  none  of  our  members  here 
present  have  ever  heard  of  a  more  noble  example 
of  animal  protection  than  has  been  carried  out  by 
this  kind-hearted  woman.  I  should  like  to  offer 
an  amendment  to  the  previous  motion.  I  move, 
sir,  that  the  chair  appoint  two  men  to  pass  with 
hats  around  these  tables.'* 

Amidst  great  applause  this  motion  was  unani- 
mously carried,  and  a  moment  later  two  black 
derby  hats  were  passing  from  hand  to  hand  round 
the  hall.  Presently  these  were  returned  to  me  full 
and  overflowing  with  green  bank-notes. 

At  midnight,  when  I  walked  down  town  to  my 
hotel,  two  men  accompanied  me,  as  body-guards, 
for  I  was  a  traveling  savings-bank,  with  all  my 
pockets  filled  with  cash. 

"How  did  the  evening  go?"  asked  Mrs.  Under- 
wood on  my  return. 

"Oh,  pretty  well,"  I  replied,  as,  emptying  my 
pockets,  I  hid  the  white  bedspread  beneath  a 
shower  of  paper  money. 

"Oh,  you  have  n't  robbed  a  bank  ?"  she  gasped. 

"Quite  the  opposite,"  I  assured  her,  "  This 
money  is  going  into  a  bank.  It's  a  gift  from  a  group 
of  red-blooded  men  who  wish  to  honor  and  help  a 
woman  whom  they  believe  to  be  worthy  of  great 
respect.  You  can  guess  who  she  is." 


There  he  sat  in  the  warm  water  with  the  soft  clothes  of  the  week  s  wash 
comfortably  settled  beneath  him 


IN  TIMES  OF  TROUBLE  in 

While  these  events  were  going  on,  Bruno,  whose 
early  life  was  exciting  so  much  interest,  was  spend- 
ing most  of  the  wintry  days  in  his  snug  leaf-filled 
den  in  Belmont.  At  times,  when  the  weather  was 
warmer,  he  came  to  the  surface  of  his  own  accord, 
but  he  did  not  care  much  about  leaving  his  cage, 
and  seemed  lazy  and  sluggish. 

To  overcome  the  difficulty  of  getting  him  out, 
I  used  figs  or  raisins  as  a  lure.  Holding  these 
delicacies,  of  which  he  was  very  fond,  tantalizingly 
just  beyond  the  end  of  his  nose,  I  gradually  coaxed 
him  forth,  so  that  the  cage-door  could  be  closed 
behind  him. 

When  once  he  was  outside,  it  did  n't  take  Foxy 
long  to  get  him  limbered  up.  About  an  hour  of 
exercise,  however,  was  all  he  cared  for ;  then  of  his 
own  accord  he  returned  to  his  home,  opened  the 
door,  and  walked  in. 

Not  far  from  where  the  bear's  cage  stood  is  a 
small  one-story  building,  which  plays  an  impor- 
tant part  in  the  household  economy  of  our  family. 
This  is  generally  known  as  the  laundry,  and  the 
largest  of  its  three  rooms  is  the  drying-room.  But 
by  me  this  room  is  dedicated  to  a  use  that  far 
transcends  the  mere  drying  of  the  week's  wash. 

It  is  a  room  of  generous  proportions,  lighted 
overhead  by  a  large  skylight.  I  like  to  call  this 
my  studio,  for  here  occasionally  I  try  to  entice  a 


112  WILD  BROTHER 

friend  or  some  animal  to  pose  in  front  of  my 
camera.  Into  this  room,  during  the  winter,  I  often 
invited  Bruno  and  the  dog. 

The  bear  never  accepted  these  invitations  with 
any  great  show  of  pleasure.  In  fact,  as  I  have  al- 
ready described,  it  was  only  by  subtle  strategy 
and  much  persuasion  that  he  could  be  induced  to 
leave  the  comforts  of  his  own  snug  abode.  When 
the  earth  was  white  with  snow,  he  refused  absolute- 
ly to  take  one  step  beyond  the  threshold  until  a  path 
was  dug  and  the  cold  snow  completely  removed. 

Once  within  my  studio,  however,  he  enjoyed  the 
gentle  heat  of  the  place,  with  the  warm  sun  shin- 
ing down  upon  him  through  the  glass  roof  overhead. 
Back  and  forth,  round  and  round,  he  galloped, 
with  Foxy  chasing  after  him,  his  long  claws  click- 
ing noisily  on  the  hardwood  floor.  Growing  tired 
of  this  sport,  he  jumped  into  a  chair  to  be  away 
from  the  dog,  where  he  could  have  a  rest.  But 
Foxy,  wanting  the  game  to  continue,  bit  his  paw 
and  tried  to  start  him  off  again. 

One  day,  while  I  was  in  the  studio  striving  to  get 
some  photographs  of  the  bear,  there  came  an  an- 
nouncement from  the  house  that  dinner  was  served. 
Not  having  time  to  take  the  bear  back  into  his 
cage,  I  closed  the  two  sliding  doors  that  separate 
my  room  from  the  laundry,  and  left  Bruno  to  look 
after  himself  until  my  return. 


IN  TIMES  OF  TROUBLE  113 

A  few  minutes  later,  it  occured  to  me  that  I  was 
taking  a  risk  in  leaving  my  camera  unguarded  in 
the  room  with  the  bear ;  so  I  asked  my  boy  to  run 
to  the  studio  and  let  Bruno  out,  or  bring  the  cam- 
era in. 

Presently  I  heard  a  shout:  "Father,  come  quick, 
and  see  what  Bruno 's  doing." 

I  rushed  back  to  salvage  what  might  be  left  of 
the  camera,  for  I  feared  the  worst.  My  anxiety 
was  groundless,  however,  for  though  the  bear  was 
in  mischief,  the  camera  was  safe.  In  the  few  min- 
utes of  my  absence  Bruno  had  rolled  open  the  two 
heavy  sliding  doors  and  was  now  in  the  wash-room. 
There  he  sat  in  perfect  contentment,  in  one  of  the 
laundry  tubs,  soaking  in  the  warm  water,  with  the 
soft  clothing  of  the  week's  wash  comfortably 
settled  beneath  him.  It  was  a  cold  February  day, 
and  the  look  of  pleasure  on  his  roguish  face  showed 
how  much  he  was  enjoying  this  midwinter  luxury. 
With  great  composure,  he  sat  perfectly  still  while 
I  took  his  picture. 

Then,  before  I  could  slip  in  another  plate-holder 
for  a  second  shot,  he  turned  about  and  reaching 
up  to  the  soap-tray  on  the  wall  over  the  tub,  took 
from  it  a  bar  of  yellow  soap  and  began  to  wash  his 
hands.  I  did  want  to  get  that  picture ;  but  by  the 
time  a  new  plate  was  in  position,  Bruno  had 
dropped  the  soap  into  the  tub.  Of  course,  he  was 


ii4  WILD  BROTHER 

not  actually  using  the  soap  to  clean  his  paws  — 
he  was  merely  investigating,  and  out  of  curiosity 
turning  the  soap  over  and  over  to  get  a  good  look 
at  it. 

Bruno  came  through  his  first  winter  successfully. 
The  cold  season  had  a  good  effect  upon  him ;  he  was 
much  more  tractable  and  seldom  lost  his  temper. 


A  sport  that  he  enjoyed  was  to  climb  out  on  the  small  limbs 


A  hard  tomato  thrown  accurately  excited  Bruno's  wrath, —  and 
he  chased  his  assailant  down  into  the  meadow 


CHAPTER  VII 
BRUNO  MUST  DEPART 

IN  the  spring,  when  Bruno  was  a  little  more  than 
a  year  old,  I  taught  him  a  few  simple  tricks.  He 
learned  very  quickly.  At  my  command  he  would 
roll  over,  sit  up,  lie  down,  or  stand  on  his  hind- 
legs.  I  taught  him  these  accomplishments  through 
a  series  of  rewards.  When  he  obeyed  an  order,  I 
gave  him  a  fig.  It  was  astonishing  to  see  how  soon 
he  came  to  understand  what  I  wanted.  In  fifteen 
minutes  I  taught  him  to  roll  over.  At  the  command 
I  turned  him  over  with  my  hand,  then  gave  him 
the  fig.  After  a  few  demonstrations  of  this  kind, 
he  rolled  over  without  my  touching  him. 

As  Bruno  grew  older,  he  became  less  particular 
about  the  manner  in  which  his  food  was  served. 
He  was  very  gentle  now  when  I  fed  him  from  my 
hand,  and  never  grabbed  for  anything.  I  could 
even  hold  a  grape  or  a  raisin  lightly  between  my 
lips  and,  with  perfect  safety,  allow  him  to  take  it 
from  me. 

Bruno  was  in  fine  condition  that  spring.  He 
developed  a  fondness  for  climbing,  and  could  cling 
to  a  tree-trunk  like  a  squirrel.  No  trees  were  too 
large  for  his  ascent.  He  liked  to  climb  out  on  the 
smaller  limbs  and  swing  and  teeter  up  and  down 


n6  WILD  BROTHER 

on  them.  After  enjoying  this  sport,  he  would 
lower  himself  by  his  paws  from  one  limb  to  an- 
other, like  a  monkey,  and  drop  to  the  ground. 

In  July,  when  eighteen  months  old,  he  weighed 
eighty-five  pounds  and,  standing  on  his  hind-legs, 
measured  four  feet,  six  inches.  We  could  almost 
see  him  grow  —  and  his  appetite  was  growing 
too.  As  summer  came  on,  he  began  to  develop  a 
liking  for  fruit  and  vegetables.  Bananas  were  in 
special  favor ;  one  day  he  ate  six  of  them  and  then 
whined  for  more.  Carrots,  turnips,  and  parsnips 
also  were  considered  as  delicacies  by  him.  Though 
it  was  against  the  rules,  he  liked  to  get  into  the 
garden  and  dig  them  for  himself. 

One  morning  we  found  Bruno  in  the  middle  of 
the  tomato  patch,  thoroughly  enjoying  a  feast  of 
the  red  ripe  fruit.  A  friend  who  was  visiting  me 
volunteered  to  drive  the  marauder  away  from  his 
plunder,  but  the  bear  was  stubborn  and  defiantly 
stood  his  ground.  Suddenly  a  well-aimed  hard 
green  tomato  landed  with  a  thud  on  the  side  of  his 
head.  The  effect  of  this  successful  shot  was  start- 
ling —  the  robber  left  his  booty  and,  making  a 
rapid  advance  upon  his  assailant,  drove  him  out  of 
the  garden  and  pursued  him  down  into  the 
meadow.  Here,  the  day  being  warm  and  his  temper 
having  abated,  Bruno  gave  up  the  chase.  Then, 
with  Foxy's  help,  I  escorted  him  back  to  his  cage. 


He  threw  his  arms  around  my  waist  and  drew  me  closely  to  him.  A  moment 

after  this  picture  was  taken,  a  sudden  rage  seized  Bruno 

and  he  nearly  put  an  end  to  the  story 


BRUNO  MUST  DEPART  117 

The  bear  was  now  getting  so  large  that  it  seemed 
best  to  have  him  a  little  more  under  restraint. 
By  this  time  he  had  grown  enough  to  fit  the  collar 
that  in  his  infant  days  I  had  bought  for  his  use. 
He  made  no  objection  to  wearing  it,  but  he  did 
object  most  strenuously  when  I  tried  to  lead  him 
about  by  a  long  rawhide  strap.  All  went  well 
when  he  wanted  to  go  in  the  same  direction  that  I 
did,  or  when  he  led  the  way  and  I  followed  after. 
If  he  did  not  care  to  follow  me,  he  simply  dropped 
on  the  ground  and  would  not  budge.  If  I  pulled 
on  the  strap,  he  rolled  and  tumbled,  cursed  and 
swore,  and  bit  and  scratched  at  the  rawhide. 

The  only  way  to  move  Bruno  now  was  to  "  press 
the  button  "  —  to  touch  that  vital  spot,  his  tail. 
This  never  failed  to  start  him  off  on  another  tack. 
Through  this  stratagem,  supplemented  occasionally 
by  the  judicious  use  of  a  small  riding-whip,  to- 
gether with  an  unlimited  amount  of  patience,  I 
finally  managed  to  train  him  to  the  leash. 

About  this  time  Foxy  gave  us  somewhat  of  a 
surprise.  She  became  the  proud  mother  of  eleven 
nondescript  puppies  —  all  doing  well,  with  mother 
as  bright  and  cheerful  as  if  she  had  not  a  care  in 
the  world.  When  the  youngsters  grew  old  enough 
to  walk  about,  they  all  went  to  call  on  the  bear. 

Bruno's  attitude  toward  the  children  of  his 
friend  was  very  kindly,  and  the  little  fellows  were 


n8  WILD  BROTHER 

not  at  all  afraid  of  him.  For  a  long  time  the  bear 
sat  very  still,  solemnly  regarding  them  with  the 
greatest  interest  as  they  tumbled  about  his  feet. 
Meanwhile  Foxy,  standing  outside  the  cage  and 
looking  through  the  bars,  was  not  enjoying  the 
show.  She  whined  and  pawed  at  the  door,  trying 
to  get  in,  and  when  Bruno  began  to  handle  her 
children,  she  became  greatly  excited. 

With  his  big  paw,  very  carefully,  the  bear  drew 
up  one  of  the  chubby  little  ones  for  close  inspection. 
Gently  he  nosed  it  over  and  rolled  it  slowly  about 
on  the  ground.  Several  other  puppies  had  passed 
a  similar  inspection,  when  I  opened  the  cage  door 
and  Foxy  jumped  in.  There  was  no  discussion 
whatever  in  regard  to  the  situation  ;  the  dog  had  no 
comments  to  offer.  Very  quietly  and  with  great 
dispatch,  she  carried  her  offspring,  one  by  one,  by 
the  back  of  the  neck,  to  the  door  of  the  cage,  and 
dropped  them  outside. 

Now  that  Bruno  had  grown  to  such  generous 
proportions  (he  weighed  one  hundred  and  twenty 
pounds  in  September  and  stood  five-feet-three  in 
his  bear  feet),  we  did  not  care  to  have  him  come 
into  the  house.  His  parlor  tricks  were  rough  and 
boisterous,  his  free-and-easy  manners  inappropri- 
ate. He  was  like  a  bull  in  a  china  shop.  His  atti- 
tude toward  furniture  was  especially  crude;  if  a 
Chippendale  chair  chanced  to  be  in  his  way,  he 


He  had  evidently  come  for  an  afternoon  call  and  was  now  waiting 
for  tea  to  be  served 


BRUNO  MUST  DEPART  119 

never  walked  round  it,  but  went  through  it  or  over 
it.  To  him  it  made  no  difference  whether  a  chair 
had  two,  three,  or  four  legs. 

Imagine  then  my  consternation  one  afternoon 
when  I  saw  him  bound  into  the  front  hall  through 
the  door,  which  had  inadvertently  been  left  open. 
I  rushed  after  him,  to  save  the  furniture,  or  pick  up 
the  pieces  and  clear  away  the  wreck.  At  first  he 
could  not  be  located.  Everything  was  in  order  — 
nothing  broken,  and  all  quiet.  Presently  a  glad 
shout  of  relief  from  Comrade  brought  me  to  her 
side.  There,  comfortably  ensconced  in  a  velvet- 
seated  chair,  sat  our  friend  Bruno.  He  had  evi- 
dently come  for  an  afternoon  call  and  was  now 
patiently  waiting  for  tea  to  be  served.  For  his  gen- 
tlemanly behavior  on  this  occasion  I  rewarded  him 
with  three  figs  and  a  small  bunch  of  raisins ;  then, 
politely  and  cautiously,  I  showed  him  the  door. 

Our  cook  was  very  fond  of  Bruno.  The  bear 
always  relished  the  food  that  she  gave  him,  and 
often  accepted  her  invitation  to  come  into  the 
kitchen.  On  one  of  his  visits,  when  cook's  atten- 
tion was  elsewhere,  he  slipped  into  the  pantry. 
Not  since  the  days  of  his  childhood,  when  he  rev- 
eled in  the  sugar-barrel,  had  he  sniffed  such 
delicious  odors.  A  big  brown  jug  of  molasses  was 
conveniently  at  hand.  He  slid  it  out  from  under 
the  shelf,  lapped  up  the  sweet  brown  sugar  that 


120  WILD  BROTHER 

had  crystallized  round  the  cork,  then  pulled  the 
stopper  out  and  thrust  his  long  pink  tongue  deep 
into  the  neck  of  the  jug,  till  it  caught  the  flavor  of 
the  molasses  down  below. 

Cook  discovered  him  just  in  time  to  prevent  a 
catastrophe.  A  moment  later  and  the  jug  would 
have  been  pouring  its  contents  out  on  the  floor. 
Already  he  had  tipped  over  a  pitcher  of  cream,  and 
pulled  several  pots  and  pans  from  their  position 
on  the  shelves. 

"Get  out  of  here,  you  black  rascal!"  cried  the 
mistress  of  the  kitchen ;  and  to  emphasize  her  de- 
mand, she  belabored  Bruno's  hind-quarters  with  the 
flat  of  her  broom,  as,  licking  his  chops,  he  galloped 
through  the  door. 

Bruno  spent  the  greater  part  of  his  second  Bel- 
mont  winter  in  his  retreat  beneath  the  ground, 
coming  out  for  food  only  when  the  days  were 
warm.  If  for  any  reason  I  wished  to  see  him,  how- 
.ever,  I  had  merely  to  say:  "Foxy,  go  fetch  him," 
and  the  dog  soon  dragged  the  drowsy  sleeper, 
yawning  and  protesting,  up  into  the  light  of  day. 

Early  in  the  spring,  as  the  days  grew  warmer  and 
the  frost  was  leaving  the  ground,  there  came  a 
morning  of  great  excitement.  Bruno  dug  out  of  his 
retreat.  The  thawing  earth  near  the  entrance  to 
his  den  had  slipped  away  and  left  a  small  opening 
beneath  the  foundation  of  the  cage.  Through  this 


Not  since  the  day  when  he  reveled  in  the  sugar  barrel 
had  he  sniffed  such  delicious  odors 


BRUNO  MUST  DEPART  121 

hole,  which  he  had  easily  enlarged,  the  bear  had 
made  his  escape.  This  news  came  to  me  over  the 
telephone,  and  Mrs.  Underwood,  who  talked  with 
me,  concluded  by  saying:  "Please  come  home  at 
once ;  we  have  found  him.  He  's  in  Bessie's  kitchen 
and  we  can't  get  him  out." 

This  last  information  made  me  feel  much  easier, 
for  Bessie  was  our  very  good  friend  and  neighbor. 
She  knew  the  bear,  and  her  children  had  often 
played  with  him  when  he  was  a  cub.  Just  how 
long  the  bear  had  been  at  liberty,  no  one  could  say ; 
but  about  eleven  o'clock  he  had  made  his  appear- 
ance at  their  kitchen  door.  The  cook,  who  was  new 
in  her  position,  heard  a  noise  on  the  back  porch, 
and,  on  opening  the  door  to  see  who  was  there, 
discovered,  to  her  amazement  and  dismay,  a  big 
black  beast  trying  to  get  into  a  small  refrigerator 
that  stood  close  at  hand.  With  a  shriek  she 
slammed  the  door  behind  her;  but  it  failed  to 
latch,  and  a  moment  later  the  bear  entered  the 
kitchen.  Imagine  the  state  of  mind  of  that  new 
domestic  on  this  her  first  day  of  service  in  a  strange 
home !  With  a  wild  scream  of  terror  she  fled,  and 
left  the  beast  in  full  possession.  This  time,  how- 
ever, she  was  careful  to  latch  the  door  as  she 
departed.  All  out  of  breath,  she  flew  at  once  to  her 
mistress  and  hysterically  told  her  story. 

Fortunate  it  was  for  me  that  Bruno  had  chosen 


122  WILD  BROTHER 

the  home  of  our  friend  for  his  visit,  for  Bessie  did 
not  fear  the  bear,  and  knew  that,  if  he  were  al- 
lowed to  have  his  own  way,  there  would  be  no 
trouble.  Bruno  did  not  want  to  leave  that  kitchen, 
so  there  he  was  allowed  to  stay  until  my  return. 
Then,  with  my  pocket  filled  with  figs  and  with  the 
long  strap  attached  to  his  collar,  I  coaxed  and  led 
him  back  to  his  cage. 

Not  long  after  that  incident  Mrs.  Underwood 
was  quite  astonished  when  little  Alice  came  run- 
ning up  to  her  exclaiming,  "O  Aunty,  I  have  just 
licked  the  bear!" 

"No,  Alice,  you  shouldn't  say  'licked';  you 
should  say  *  whipped.'  That  was  a  very  naughty 
thing  for  you  to  do,"  Comrade  admonished  her. 

"No,  I  did  n't  whip  him,  Aunty,"  Alice  replied, 
"I  licked  him.  I  had  my  face  against  the  cage, 
and  he  reached  up  and  licked  my  cheek  with  his 
tongue,  and  then  I  licked  the  side  of  his  nose  with, 
my  tongue." 

Comrade  was  horrified.  How  easy  it  would  have 
been  for  Bruno  to  have  bitten  off  the  end  of  that 
tongue !  What  a  delicate  morsel  it  would  have 
made  for  him !  I  shuddered  to  think  what  might 
have  happened,  and  I  also  began  to  realize  the 
possibility  of  some  future  accident.  In  spite  of  his 
unusual  bringing  up,  my  pet  was  a  bear,  inheriting 
all  the  traits  and  characteristics  of  his  wild  ances- 


He  was  glad  to  see  me  and  touched  my  arm  in  greeting 


BRUNO  MUST  DEPART  123 

tors.  As  far  as  I  had  been  able  to  learn,  his  dis- 
position was  no  better  than  that  of  any  ordinary 
black  bear.  It  is  a  well-established  fact  among 
people  who  have  tamed  or  handled  animals  that 
the  North  American  black  bear  is  sometimes  a 
treacherous  fellow  and  not  to  be  trusted.  Another 
fact  worthy  of  some  thought  was  that  the  so-called 
dangerous  wild  animals,  when  taken  as  cubs  and 
brought  up  as  pets,  never  have  the  fear  of  human 
beings  that  animals  in  their  natural  habitat 
develop.  Consequently,  when  a  sudden  rage  seizes 
them,  they  are  more  likely  to  do  serious  damage. 

At  this  time,  the  spring  of  1905,  Bruno  tipped 
the  scales  at  one  hundred  and  forty  pounds.  He 
was  as  strong  as  an  ox  and,  had  he  cared  to  do  so, 
could  have  torn  a  man  to  pieces  in  a  very  short 
time.  Mrs.  Underwood  thought  that  I  was  taking 
a  good  many  risks  and  laying  myself  liable  to 
serious  criticism  if  I  kept  the  bear  much  longer, 
and  I  was  somewhat  reluctantly  beginning  to  con- 
sider the  matter  of  another  home  for  him,  when  an 
event  happened  which  caused  me  to  decide  defi- 
nitely that  he  must  go. 

Wishing  to  take  a  photograph  of  Bruno  that 
would  show  his  size  at  that  age  (two  years  and 
four  months)  relative  to  that  of  a  man,  I  asked  a 
friend  of  mine  if  he  would  be  willing  to  stand  be- 
side the  bear  for  that  purpose. 


I24  WILD  BROTHER 

His  answer  to  my  invitation,  "Not  on  your  life !" 
was  emphatic  and  disappointing.  He  was  willing, 
however,  to  assist  me  in  any  way  that  involved  no 
danger  to  life  or  limb.  To  this  end  he  suggested 
that  /  stand  beside  the  bear  while  he  tried  to  take 
the  picture.  He  admitted  freely  that  he  knew 
nothing  about  my  camera,  but  he  declared  that  he 
knew  Bruno  well  enough  to  keep  away  from  him. 

The  details  of  the  episode  having  been  arranged, 
I  took  my  stand  beside  the  bear  and  with  a  gentle 
voice  asked  him  to  stand  up.  Bruno  obeyed  in- 
stantly and  did  more  than  I  asked  of  him.  He 
threw  his  arms  joyously  about  my  waist  and  drew 
me  closely  to  him. 

"This  is  all  so  sudden,  Bruno!'*  I  ejaculated. 
"Stand  off  a  bit  and  give  me  space  to  breathe." 

With  that  he  hugged  me  even  closer,  and  as  if  to 
make  doubly  sure  of  the  prize  that  he  held  in  his 
arms,  he  seized  me  firmly  in  his  mouth,  gripping 
me  by  the  front  of  my  jacket. 

"When  shall  I  take  it  ?"  shouted  my  friend. 

"When  it  looks  interesting,"  I  panted  in  reply. 

"It  looks  pretty  good  to  me  right  now!"  he 
exclaimed,  as  he  pressed  the  button. 

I  have  always  wished  that  he  had  waited  just  a 
moment  more,  for  an  instant  later  my  jacket,  under 
the  exigency  of  the  occasion,  began  to  split  up  the 
back ;  nor  did  it  stop  until  the  rent  extended  to  a 


BRUNO  MUST  DEPART  125 

point  between  my  shoulder-blades.  And  now  the 
scene  grew  more  animated.  Our  little  play  was 
changing  from  comedy  to  tragedy.  The  bear  began 
to  dance  and  whirl  me  round  and  round.  He  bent 
me  backwards.  He  pushed  me  violently  from  side 
to  side.  Oh,  how  I  wish  I  had  known  at  that  time 
the  steps  of  the  weird  and  wriggly  dances  of  to-day ! 

But  Bruno's  ragtime  demonstration  gave  me  no 
enjoyment.  His  claws  were  setting  into  the  flesh 
of  my  back.  I  was  growing  tired  and  anxious. 
Vainly  I  requested  that  we  sit  down  and  rest  a 
while.  But  no,  it  was  on  with  the  dance,  and  away 
we  whirled.  Intermittently  I  caught  glimpses  of 
Mrs.  Underwood  anxiously  watching  my  efforts 
from  a  vantage-point  on  the  piazza.  Her  face  grew 
longer  and  longer  with  my  every  revolution. 

Awkwardly  I  missed  step,  and  one  of  Bruno's 
heavy  paws  came  down  upon  my  foot.  Backward 
I  fell  on  the  grass.  The  bear  on  top  kept  firm  his 
hold  upon  his  partner,  and  right  there,  as  far  as  I 
was  concerned,  this  story  was  near  its  end.  Bruno 
was  beginning  to  lose  his  temper.  He  would  not 
let  me  get  up.  I  tried  to  choke  him  off;  but  the 
harder  I  gripped  his  throat,  the  more  he  growled 
and  shook  my  jacket,  and  the  tighter  he  squeezed 
me  in  his  arms.  Oh,  why  had  n't  I  taken  the  advice 
of  my  friends  and  sent  him  away  long  ago  ? 

Suddenly,  at  this  critical  point,  the  fates  were 


126  WILD  BROTHER 

kind  to  me.  Through  all  these  distressing  mo- 
ments Foxy,  the  dog,  had  been  an  interested  but 
unobtrusive  spectator ;  but  now,  just  at  the  psycho- 
logical instant,  she  took  a  hand  in  the  proceedings. 
Barking  with  excitement,  she  rushed  forward,  and 
with  a  bound  she  made  once  more  her  famous  foot- 
ball play,  and,  tackling  the  bear  by  the  tail,  held  on 
like  grim  death. 

The  day  was  saved.  The  game  was  over.  Lame 
and  sore,  I  rose  slowly  from  the  ground.  Right 
then  and  there  in  family  council  it  was  decided 
definitely  that  Bruno  must  depart. 


CHAPTER  VIII 
THE  END  OF  THE  TRAIL 

THE  decision  to  send  Bruno  away  having  been 
made,  I  immediately  set  about  finding  a  suitable 
place  for  him.  Fortune  favored  me  again,  as  it  had 
several  times  before  in  connection  with  the  bear. 
Within  a  week  an  ideal  new  home  for  Bruno  had 
been  found.  Not  far  from  Belmont  is  situated  one 
of  those  large  metropolitan  reservations  which  has 
helped  to  make  Boston  so  famous  for  its  beautiful 
park  system.  Here,  under  the  care  of  the  Com- 
monwealth, near  the  shore  of  Spot  Pond,  a  small 
Zoo  is  maintained. 

It  so  happened  that,  just  at  the  time  of  my  dif- 
ference with  Bruno,  the  bear  of  this  collection  died. 
The  roomy  cage  in  which  he  had  lived  was  equipped 
with  a  bathing-pool ;  its  floor  was  of  cement,  and 
there  was  a  fine  commodious  den  for  winter  use. 
The  director  of  the  Zoo,  who  was  delighted  to  have 
a  new  tenant  for  his  bear-house,  received  Bruno 
with  open  arms.  We  had  some  difficulty,  however, 
with  his  transportation. 

The  men  came  to  get  him  in  one  of  the  park 
wagons,  and  brought  with  them  a  large  packing- 
case,  in  one  end  of  which  was  a  sliding  door.  It  was 
Bruno's  dinner-time,  and  I  placed  his  food  in  the 


128  WILD  BROTHER 

box  and  put  the  open  end  just  inside  the  cage. 
Figs  and  raisins  were  on  the  menu  that  day,  and  the 
bear  was  eager  to  taste  them.  As  soon  as  he  was 
well  inside,  I  slid  the  door  shut  behind  him. 

In  an  instant  Bruno  seemed  to  realize  that  some- 
thing was  wrong.  The  boards  on  one  side  of  the 
packing-case  had  been  left  an  inch  or  two  apart. 
Through  one  of  these  openings  the  bear's  nose  and 
upper  canine  teeth  suddenly  appeared.  There  was 
a  crunching  sound  and  the  splinters  flew  as  Bruno's 
powerful  jaws,  working  like  a  huge  pair  of  shears, 
cut  their  way  through  the  thin  spruce  board.  With 
a  stick  I  tapped  him  on  the  nose ;  but  he  kept  at 
work,  and  soon  would  have  been  at  liberty,  had  not 
other  and  newer  boards  been  nailed  on  the  box  to 
cover  all  the  openings. 

Hammer  in  hand,  with  nails  and  several  spare 
boards  ready  for  instant  use,  I  stood  in  the  wagon 
beside  the  packing-case  until  we  reached  the  res- 
ervation. During  the  hour  that  it  took  for  our 
journey  the  bear  was  gnawing  and  scratching  at 
the  side  of  the  box  where  the  openings  had  been. 
Whenever  there  seemed  to  be  any  evidence  that  he 
was  breaking  through,  I  pounded  the  spot  might- 
ily with  the  hammer. 

Bruno  entered  his  new  home  on  the  run.  Sev- 
eral times  he  rushed  like  mad  around  the  cage. 
Then  he  became  more  quiet  and  began  a  tour  of 


THE  END  OF  THE  TRAIL          129 

inspection,  investigating  every  nook  and  corner, 
sniffing  and  snuffing  as  he  walked  about.  He  went 
half-way  into  the  den,  and  then  backed  out.  He 
put  one  paw  very  cautiously  into  the  water  of  the 
pool,  withdrew  it,  and  shook  it  dry.  On  the  whole, 
his  new  abode  seemed  to  suit  him  very  well. 

With  feelings  of  both  relief  and  regret  I  said 
good-bye  to  my  pet.  The  problem  was  solved, 
and  I  had  no  further  occasion  to  worry  about  the 
bear.  A  happy  future  was  assured  for  him;  amid 
pleasant  surroundings  his  life  would  be  passed  in 
comfort. 

Bruno  was  not  one  of  those  restless  caged  ani- 
mals that  forever  pace  pathetically  to  and  fro  in 
their  place  of  confinement.  His  had  always  been  a 
life  of  considerable  restriction,  and  he  had  become 
accustomed  to  it.  As  long  as  there  were  people 
about  and  his  meals  came  regularly,  he  would  be 
contented. 

As  the  Zoo  was  only  a  short  distance  from  my 
home,  it  was  easy  for  me  to  drop  in  now  and  then 
and  call  upon  my  old  friend.  For  years  Bruno 
never  failed  to  recognize  me,  and  always  seemed 
glad  when  I  came.  He  would  run  to  the  end  of  the 
cage,  put  out  his  paw  between  the  bars,  and  touch 
my  arm  in  greeting.  When  Bruno  was  full-grown 
he  was  an  enormous  bear;  standing  on  his  hind- 
legs,  with  head  erect,  he  measured  a  little  over  six 


I3o  WILD  BROTHER 

feet.  He  must  have  weighed  something  more  than 
four  hundred  pounds.  Though  he  was  never  put 
on  the  scales  after  he  left  Belmont,  his  size  and 
weight  could  be  estimated  approximately  by 
comparing  him  with  other  animals  whose  weight 
was  definitely  known. 

I  took  the  last  photograph  of  him  when  he  was 
seven  years  old.  At  the  time  he  was  playing  with 
a  rake-handle  held  by  a  friend  of  mine,  a  man  of 
average  height.  It  will  be  seen  by  comparing  the 
two  figures  in  the  picture  that  Bruno  was  an 
animal  of  prodigious  size.  As  he  grew  older,  I  went 
to  see  him  less  frequently,  until,  during  the  latter 
period  of  his  life,  I  seemed  to  grow  out  of  his 
recollection. 

With  his  keeper,  a  man  who  had  a  special  apti- 
tude for  handling  animals,  Bruno  was  a  great  favor- 
ite. But,  notwithstanding  the  fact  that  he  recog- 
nized this  man  as  his  master  and  seemed  to  have  a 
fondness  for  him,  there  came  a  day  when  the  cir- 
cumstance that  I  had  been  warned  against  hap- 
pened. The  keeper  was  cleaning  the  cage,  and  was 
using  a  broom  and  a  shovel.  The  latter  he  had  left 
on  the  floor,  while  he  employed  himself  with  the 
broom.  Just  as  the  man  was  finishing  his  work, 
Bruno  picked  up  the  shovel  and  began  to  play 
with  it.  Being  in  a  hurry,  the  keeper  grasped  the 
handle  and  violently  jerked  it  away.  In  a  flash 


THE  END  OF  THE  TRAIL  131 

the  bear  lost  his  temper  and  turned  upon  him. 
Then,  with  one  smash  of  his  powerful  fore-arm,  he 
felled  him  to  the  floor  and,  springing  with  a  sav- 
age growl  upon  the  prostrate  man,  set  his  wicked 
teeth  through  the  fleshy  muscles  of  his  arm  just 
below  the  shoulder. 

In  telling  me  about  it  afterward,  the  keeper 
averred  that  it  was  his  own  fault.  He  had  always 
allowed  the  bear  to  play  with  the  tools  when  he  was 
not  using  them.  "Why,"  he  explained,  "he  would 
have  had  me  dead  in  a  minute  if  he  had  a  wanted 
to !  He  was  just  like  a  boy  that  's  been  teased. 
He  only  give  me  one  lick  and  a  bite  for  disturbing 
him.  I  got  to  my  feet,  picked  up  my  things,  and 
walked  right  by  him.  He  stood  close  beside  the 
door  when  I  went  out,  and  he  never  offered  to 
touch  me  again.  I  was  only  laid  up  for  two  days, 
and  I  don't  hold  it  against  him." 

In  July,  1917,  when  Bruno  was  fourteen  years 
old,  he  suddenly  became  paralyzed  in  his  hind- 
quarters, and  a  few  days  later,  apparently  without 
any  suffering,  he  passed  away.  Black  bears  have 
been  known  to  live  in  confinement  to  an  age  of 
twenty  years,  but  fifteen  years  is  probably  about 
the  average  length  of  their  existence.  Just  how 
long  a  wild  bear  usually  lives  under  natural  sur- 
roundings out  in  the  open,  it  is  hard  to  state,  for 


I32  WILD  BROTHER 

there  is  no  way   to  obtain    any  positive  data. 

Here  in  New  England,  where  each  year  a  host  of 
hunters  and  trappers  are  roaming  through  the 
forest,  Bruin's  life  is  not  an  easy  one.  Every  man 
is  his  enemy.  I  have  talked  with  many  hunters, 
and  the  general  opinion  seems  to  be  that  wild 
bears  of  this  region  seldom  reach  an  age  of  more 
than  five  or  six  years.  By  that  time  they  have 
either  been  shot  or  caught  in  traps.  Bruno's  life 
had  been  one  of  ease  and  comfort,  free  from  the 
strife  and  tragedy  that  is  usually  the  lot  of  his  wild 
brethren  of  his  native  woods. 

Our  bear  had  gone,  but  the  memory  of  him  was 
destined  to  live  for  many  years  to  come. 

In  spite  of  many  willing  hands  that  reached  out 
to  help,  things  went  badly  with  the  Weldons.  The 
injured  foot  grew  worse,  and  after  a  year  of  suf- 
fering, Mr.  Weldon  went  to  a  hospital  and  had  an 
operation  performed.  This  afforded  some  relief, 
but  no  permanent  cure,  and  he  was  incapacitated 
for  the  greater  part  of  the  time.  It  was  a  constant 
struggle  for  the  brave  little  family  to  keep  their 
heads  above  water.  Twice  within  three  years  they 
were  obliged  to  change  their  home.  Though  they  did 
not  let  me  know  of  their  straitened  circumstances, 
I  was  fortunately  able,  through  the  aid  of  friends 
in  Maine,  to  keep  informed  with  regard  to  them. 


THE  END  OF  THE  TRAIL  133 

From  time  to  time  I  forwarded  gifts  of  money, 
telling  Mrs.  Weldon  whence  they  came  and  ex- 
plaining to  her  how  the  funds  had  been  intrusted 
to  me  for  her  benefit.  A  year  later  the  Weldons 
moved  for  the  third  time,  and  this  change  took 
them  a  long  distance  from  their  last  abode,  quite 
out  of  touch  with  the  region  about  my  camp.  For 
a  long  period  I  heard  nothing  about  them,  until, 
by  inquiring,  I  learned  that  they  were  living  in  a 
small  town,  some  fifty  miles  away  from  their  for- 
mer home. 

In  order  to  get  into  communication  with  them 
again,  I  wrote  to  a  provision  store  in  the  place, 
to  see  if  by  chance  the  Weldons  traded  there.  It  so 
happened  that  they  did,  and  the  grocer  knew  them 
well.  Though  he  spoke  in  the  highest  terms  of 
their  integrity  and  worthiness,  he  had  a  pathetic 
story  to  tell  of  their  efforts  to  keep  the  wolf  from 
the  door.  This  merchant  was  a  very  fine  man, 
whose  heart  was  in  the  right  place.  A  plan  was 
soon  arranged  whereby  the  family  could  have 
whatever  they  needed  from  his  store,  and  never 
know  who  was  connected  with  the  scheme. 

Mr.  Weldon's  foot  had  grown  much  worse  again, 
and  instant  relief  was  necessary  or  he  might  lose 
his  leg.  Immediate  arrangements  were  made  and 
a  date  was  set  for  his  coming  to  the  Massachusetts 
General  Hospital  in  Boston,  when  I  received  a 


i34  WILD  BROTHER 

letter  from  Mrs.  Weldon  which  read  as  follows :  — 

It  has  just  come  to  my  knowledge  that  our 
grocer  has  been  begging  of  you  in  our  behalf.  I  did 
not  know  anything  about  this.  I  think  it  is  a  great 
impertinence  and  I  am  ashamed  to  think  that  such 
a  thing  was  done  after  all  the  Christmas  boxes  and 
the  checks  at  Christmas  time  that  have  been  sent 
us.  Last  fall  he  wanted  me  to  write  and  ask  you 
to  help  us ;  but  I  told  him  that  I  had  no  claim  on 
your  bounty,  and  that  I  would  not  hear  of  any 
such  a  thing. 

I  trust  that  you  and  Mrs.  Underwood  will  not 
think  badly  of  me  and  mine  as  your  help  was  asked 
without  our  knowledge.  I  hope  that  you  will  see 
Mr.  Weldon  when  he  comes  to  the  hospital,  and  he 
will  be  able  to  tell  you  all  of  the  circumstances,  and 
apologize  for  such  an  affront  to  you.  The  children 
and  I  are  all  well  and  very,  very  grateful  to  all  our 
friends. 

On  receipt  of  this  letter  I  wrote  a  reply  in  which 
I  explained  that  she  was  mistaken  about  the  gro- 
cer asking  me  to  help  —  that  he  had  merely 
answered  my  own  request  for  information.  I 
assured  her  also  that  I  should  certainly  see  Mr. 
Weldon  at  the  hospital  both  before  and  after  the 
operation,  and  that  I  could  keep  her  closely  in- 


THE  END  OF  THE  TRAIL          135 

formed  about  him,  since  one  of  the  surgeons  was  a 
friend  of  mine. 

Mr.  Weldon  spent  a  month  in  the  hospital  in 
Boston,  and  the  surgeons  felt  that  the  operation 
had  been  successful.  During  his  convalescence  I 
took  him  one  day  to  the  Fells  Reservation,  to  call 
upon  the  bear.  As  we  walked  about  among  the 
cages,  I  so  managed  that  we  came  on  Bruno's 
quarters  suddenly.  The  bear,  as  we  stopped  in  the 
path  directly  in  front  of  his  cage  and  only  a  few 
feet  away,  was  standing  on  his  hind-legs  at  his 
full  height. 

"That  can't  be  Bruno!"  exclaimed  Weldon,  as 
he  gazed  in  wonder  at  the  huge  beast.  Then, 
addressing  the  bear,  he  soliloquized :  "When  I  saw 
you  last,  you  was  a  little  cub  and  only  weighed 
eleven  pounds.  My  God,"  he  added  in  a  husky 
awe-struck  voice,  still  speaking  to  the  bear,  "when 
I  think  of  what  you  was  in  my  family  and  what 
you  have  done  for  me  and  mine !  Great  Heaven, 
ain't  it  wonderful,  Mr.  Underwood,"  he  said  to 
me,  "how  this  thing  has  turned  out?" 

A  week  later  I  received  this  characteristic  letter 
from  the  friendly  grocer:  — 

I  went  to  the  stable  at  4.30  this  morning,  to 
feed  my  horse,  and  on  my  return  I  noticed  a  famil- 
iar smile  playing  around  (or  nearly  around)  the 


136  WILD  BROTHER 

summit  of  a  tall  slim  pedestal  which  was  standing 
on  my  store  platform.  In  other  words,  Mr.  Weldon 
landed  here  this  morning  feeling  O.K.,  and  loud 
in  his  praises  of  the  manner  in  which  he  had  been 
treated  by  all  you  good  people.  And  now,  if  you 
come  to  Maine  in  the  near  future,  as  Mr.  Weldon 
tells  me  you  propose  doing,  can't  you  spare  me  a 
few  days  of  your  time  ?  We  are  rough  country 
people,  but  we  are  clean  and  our  roof  don't  leak. 
I  can  offer  you  something  to  eat  every  day  and  a 
decent  bed  to  sleep  in,  and  while  I  can't  offer  you 
much  in  the  way  of  entertainment,  I  would  be 
mighty  glad  to  see  you,  and  will  gladly  do  all  I 
can  to  make  your  stay  pleasant. 

Trusting  that  I  may  soon  have  the  pleasure  of 
seeing  you,  I  am 

Very  truly  yours. 

I  never  had  the  privilege  of  meeting  this  kindly 
grocer,  but  I  am  sure  that  I  should  like  him;  we 
had  found  a  common  interest  in  the  welfare  of  the 
Weldons. 

During  that  summer  I  heard  nothing  from  the 
family,  but  my  merchant  friend  in  answer  to  a  letter 
of  inquiry  from  me  said : — 

Replying  to  your  favor  of  the  2ist,  I  regret 
very  much  that  I  am  unable  to  send  you  a  very 


THE  END  OF  THE  TRAIL  137 

favorable  report  regarding  the  Weldon  family. 
Mr.  Weldon's  foot,  although  much  better  than 
before  he  entered  the  hospital,  has  never  entirely 
healed,  and  he  has  not  been  able  to  do  much  work 
yet,  only  a  few  days  occasionally.  One  of  our  local 
physicians  has  been  working  on  his  foot  the  past 
few  weeks,  and  Mr.  Weldon  thinks  it  is  healing 
gradually  and  says  he  is  going  to  start  out  next 
week  hunting  for  a  situation  as  cook,  but  the  out- 
look seems  very  "dusky"  to  me  at  present.  Mrs. 
Weldon  and  the  children  are  well,  and  so  far  have 
had  enough  to  eat,  and  I  hope  your  kind  donations 
will  be  as  much  appreciated  by  them  as  they  are  by 

Yours  with  kindest  regards. 

In  November  I  learned  from  the  local  doctor 
that  it  had  become  imperative  that  Mr.  Weldon's 
foot  should  have  surgical  treatment  immediately. 
Another  operation  was  necessary,  and  once  more 
Mr.  Weldon  came  to  Boston.  His  trouble  had  now 
assumed  a  rather  alarming  aspect,  and  in  order  to 
check  its  further  spread  it  was  necessary  to  adopt 
heroic  measures  and  remove  the  foot. 

Once  more  the  assistance  that  came  from  Bruno 
(indirectly  of  course)  was  the  means  of  tiding  the 
family  over  a  difficult  period.  But  after  the  opera- 
tion, which  was  successful  to  the  extent  of  arrest- 


138  WILD  BROTHER 

ing  the  spread  of  the  trouble,  Mr.  Weldon  was  able 
to  work  only  intermittently. 

Persons  less  courageous  than  Mrs.  Weldon  would 
have  given  up  the  fight,  for  the  odds  were  all 
against  her.  In  the  years  that  had  passed  since  she 
had  saved  the  life  of  the  cub,  her  own  family  had 
increased  in  number,  until  there  were  five  girls  and 
two  boys.  To  clothe  them,  feed  them,  bring  them 
up  properly,  and  care  for  them  in  sickness,  was  a 
task  that  would  have  driven  to  despair  many 
women  in  far  better  circumstances.  But  this 
woman  of  the  kind  heart  had  the  blood  of  the 
pioneers  in  her  veins.  She  would  not  give  up  the 
struggle.  When  the  family  funds  dwindled  to  the 
vanishing  point,  she  found  outside  work  that  en- 
abled her  to  purchase  the  bare  necessities  of  life. 

And  so  she  has  toiled,  year  after  year,  ever  cheer- 
fully, against  tremendous  difficulties  —  and  never 
once  has  asked  for  help.  The  great  reward  of  her 
labors  has  been  the  bringing  up  of  a  fine  family  of 
sturdy  children,  who  are  a  credit  to  her  name. 

It  has  ever  been  a  surprise  to  her  that  the  bread 
she  cast  upon  the  waters  so  long  ago  has  returned  to 
her  again  and  again;  it  seems  little  less  than  a 
miracle  that,  many  years  after  she  took  the  little 
starveling  to  her  breast,  persons  of  whom  she 
never  has  heard  should  wish  to  reward  and  com- 
mend her  simple  act. 


THE  END  OF  THE  TRAIL          139 

Only  last  year  I  received  a  letter  from  Mrs. 
Weldon  that  touched  me  deeply.  A  few  lines  from 
it  will  show  —  better  than  any  words  of  mine  — 
her  indomitable  spirit:  — 

This  has  been  a  hard  winter,  but  I  have  had 
steady  work  in  a  shop  at  sixteen  dollars  a  week 
(when  I  get  a  full  week),  so  I  have  been  able  to  get 
along  very  well  with  what  extra  work  I  could  do 
evenings.  I  have  been  well  all  winter,  but  two  of 
the  children  have  had  the  mumps,  which  kept 
them  out  of  school  for  a  while.  Ursula  has  had  the 
La  Grippe  this  spring,  but  is  better  now.  I  have 
five  children  at  home,  including  my  baby  who  is 
four  years  old.  Mr.  Weldon  has  not  been  able  to 
get  out-doors  at  all  since  last  Thanksgiving.  And 
now  I  think  I  have  told  you  all.  The  children  are 
in  good  health,  are  not  hungry  and  are  warm.  We 
all  have  much  to  be  thankful  for. 

Your  very  grateful  friend, 

K.  W.  WELDON 

Eighteen  years  have  passed  since  my  midwinter 
trip  into  the  woods  of  Maine,  to  verify  an  almost 
unbelievable  story  heard  by  chance.  Little  did  I 
think  at  that  time  how  it  was  to  influence  vitally 
the  lives  of  a  large  family.  That  journey  not  only 
proved  the  unusual  story  to  be  true,  but  also  gave 


140  WILD  BROTHER 

me  far  more  than  the  truth  that  I  had  sought.  I 
discovered  and  eventually  acquired  Bruno,  as 
entertaining  and  surprising  a  pet  as  man  ever 
possessed;  but  my  greatest  discovery  was  an 
unusual  example  of  compassion  that  I  like  to  believe 
reveals  the  natural,  untutored  kindness  of  the 
human  heart  —  a  discovery  that  .is  refreshing  in 
an  age  that  has  had  its  fill  of  hatred  and  bitterness. 

THE   END 


McGRATH-SHERRILL  PRESS 
BOSTON 


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